IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0     ^^  U& 

tiS,   12.0 


I.I 


IB 

m 


6" 


Fhotograi^ 
.Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WtST  MAIN  STMn 

WEtSTIt,N.Y.  MSM 

(71«)  •72-4503 


o 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


T«chnical  and  Bibliographic  Notaa/Notaa  tachniquat  at  bibiiograpliiquaa 


Tha  Inatituta  haa  attamptad  to  obtain  tha  baat 
original  copy  avaliabia  for  filming.  Faaturaa  of  thia 
copy  which  may  ba  bibliographically  unlqua. 
which  may  altar  any  of  tha  imagaa  in  tha 
raproductlon,  or  which  may  algnlficantiy  changa 
tha  uauai  mathod  of  filming,  ara  chackad  baiow. 


D 


D 


D 


0 


Colourad  covara/ 
Couvartura  d^  coulaur 


I     I   Covara  damagad/ 


Couvartura  andommagte 

Covara  rastorad  and/or  lamlnatad/ 
Couvartura  raataurAa  at/ou  paiilculte 

Covar  titia  miaaing/ 

La  titra  da  couvartura  manqua 

Colourad  mapa/ 

Cartaa  gtegraphiquaa  an  coulaur 

Colourad  ink  (i.a.  othar  than  blua  or  black)/ 
Encra  da  coulaur  (i.a.  autra  qua  biaua  ou  noira) 

Colourad  plataa  and/or  liiuatrationa/ 
Planchaa  at/ou  liiuatrationa  an  coulaur 


Bound  with  othar  matariai/ 
RaiiA  avac  d'autraa  documanta 


0   Tight  binding  may  cauaa  ahadowa  or  diatortion 
along  Intarior  margin/ 

La  r«  ilura  aarrAa  paut  cauaar  da  I'ombra  ou  da  la 
diatortion  la  long  da  la  marga  intiriaura 


Blank  laavaa  addad  during  raatoration  may 
appaar  within  tha  taxt.  Whanavar  poaaibia,  thaaa 
hava  baan  omittad  from  filming/ 
II  aa  paut  qua  eartainaa  pagaa  blanchaa  ajoutiaa 
lora  d'una  raatauration  apparaiaaant  dana  la  taxta, 
maia,  loraqua  caia  Atait  poaaibia,  caa  pagaa  n'ont 
paa  At«  f  llmAaa. 


Additional  commanta:/ 
Commantairaa  auppMmantairaa: 


VwrkMit  pagingi. 


L'Inatitut  a  microfllmi  la  mailiaur  axamplaira 
qu'il  lul  a  4t*  poaaibia  da  aa  procurer.  L«a  ditaiia 
da  cat  axamplaira  qui  aont  paut-Atra  unlquaa  du 
point  da  vua  bibiiographlqua,  qui  pauvant  modifiar 
una  Imaga  raproduita,  ou  qui  pauvant  axigar  una 
modification  dana  la  mAthoda  normaia  da  fiimaga 
aont  indiqute  ci-daaaoua. 


D 
D 
D 
GZ] 
D 
0 
D 
D 
D 
D 


Colourad  pagaa/ 
Pagaa  da  coulaur 

Pagaa  damagad/ 
Pagaa  andommagAaa 

Pagaa  raatorad  and/or  lamlnatad/ 
Pagaa  raataurtea  at/ou  paliiculAaa 

Pagaa  diacolourad,  atainad  or  foxad/ 
Pagaa  dteolorAaa,  tachattea  ou  pIquAaa 

Pagaa  datachad/ 
Pagaa  dAtachtea 

Showthrough/ 
Tranaparanca 

Quality  of  print  varlaa/ 
QualltA  intgala  da  I'impraaaion 

includaa  auppiamantary  matariai/ 
Comprand  du  material  auppMmantaira 

Only  adition  avaliabia/ 
Saula  Mitton  diaponibia 

Pagaa  wholly  or  partially  obacurad  by  arrata 
allpa,  tiaauaa,  ate.  hava  baan  rafiimad  to 
anaura  tha  baat  poaaibia  imaga/ 
Laa  pagaa  totalamant  ou  partiallamant 
obacurciaa  par  un  fauillat  d'arrata,  una  palura, 
ate,  ont  *t4  filmAaa  A  nouvaau  da  fa^on  * 
obtanir  la  malllaura  Imaga  poaaibia. 


Thia  itam  la  filmad  at  tha  raduction  ratio  chackad  balow/ 

Ca  documant  aat  film*  au  taux  da  riduetion  indlqu*  ci-daaaoua. 


Tha 
to  til 


Tha 
pota 
ofth 
filmi 


Origj 

bagii 

tha 

sion, 

othe 

firat 

aion. 

or  ill 


Tha 
ahall 
TINl 
whic 

Map 
diffa 
antir 
bagli 
right 
raqui 
math 


10X 

14X 

18X 

22X 

2SX 

30X 

y 

12X 

16X 

2DX 

a4X 

2IX 

32X 

lira 

details 
uaa  du 
:  modifiar 
QT  una 

filmaga 


y  arrata 
Id  to 

fit 

ia  palura, 

9on  A 


32X 


Tha  copy  fllmad  hara  haa  baan  raproduead  thanka 
to  tha  ganaroaity  of: 

National  Library  off  Canada 


Tha  imagat  appaaring  hara  ara  tha  baat  quality 
pottibia  conaidaring  tha  condition  and  iagibility 
off  tha  original  copy  and  in  kaaping  with  tha 
ffilming  contract  apacifficationa. 


Original  copiaa  in  printad  papar  covara  ara  ffilmad 
baglnning  with  tha  ffront  covar  and  anding  on 
tha  laat  paga  with  a  printad  or  illuatratad  impraa- 
aion.  or  tha  back  covar  whan  appropriata.  All 
othar  original  copias  ara  fllmad  baglnning  on  tha 
ffirat  paga  with  a  printad  or  illuatratad  impras- 
alon,  and  anding  on  tha  laat  paga  with  a  printad 
or  illuatratad  imprassion. 


Tha  laat  racordad  fframa  on  aach  microfficha 
ahall  contain  tha  symbol  — •►  (moaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  tha  symbol  ▼  (moaning  "END"), 
whichavar  appiias. 

Maps,  platas,  charts,  ate,  may  ba  ffilmad  at 
diffarant  raduction  ratios.  Thosa  too  larga  to  ba 
antiraly  includad  in  ona  axposura  ara  ffilmad 
baglnning  in  tha  uppar  lafft  hand  cornar,  lafft  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  fframas  as 
raquirad.  Tha  following  diagrams  illustrata  tha 
mathod: 


1 

2 

3 

L'axamplaira  filmA  fut  raproduit  grica  A  la 
gAnArosit*  da: 

Bibliothiqua  nationala  du  Canada 


Las  imagaa  auivantaa  ont  M  raproduitas  avac  la 
plus  grand  soin,  compta  tanu  da  la  condition  at 
da  la  nattat*  da  I'axampialra  ffiim*,  at  an 
confformitA  avac  las  conditions  du  contrat  da 
ffilmaga. 

I.as  axamplairas  orlginaux  dont  la  couvartura  an 
papiar  aat  imprimte  sont  ffilmis  an  commandant 
par  la  pramlar  plat  at  an  tarminant  soit  par  la 
darnlAra  paga  qui  comporta  una  emprainta 
d'imprassion  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  la  sacond 
plat,  salon  la  cas.  Tous  las  autras  axamplairas 
orlginaux  sont  ffilmte  an  commanpant  par  la 
pramlAra  paga  qui  comporta  una  amprainta 
d'imprassion  ou  d'illustration  at  an  tarminant  par 
ia  darnlAra  paga  qui  comporta  una  talla 
amprainta. 

Un  das  symbolas  suivants  apparaftra  sur  la 
darnlAra  imaga  da  chaqua  microficha,  salon  la 
cas:  la  symbols  — ►  signiffia  "A  SUIVRE",  la 
symbols  ▼  signiffia  "FIN  ". 

Laa  cartaa,  planchas,  tablaaux,  ate,  pauvant  Atra 
ffilmte  A  daa  taux  da  rMuction  difffArants. 
Loraqua  ia  documant  ast  trop  grand  pour  Atra 
raproduit  an  un  saul  clichA,  11  ast  ffilmA  A  partir 
da  i'angia  aupAriaur  gaucha,  da  gaucha  A  droita, 
at  da  haut  an  bas,  an  pranant  la  nombra 
d'imagas  nAcassaira.  Las  diagrammas  suivants 
illustrant  la  mAthoda. 


1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

MYSTI 


M 


1^ 


MYSTERIES  OF  A  CONVENT, 


AND 


MA.I£I^  MOIS^IC 


m. 


tj 


It 

1 


/^^ 


Entevad  aooording  to  the  Act  of  Congress^  in  the 

Tear  1854,  by 

T.  B.  FETEESON, 

In  the  Office  of  the  Clerk  of  the  Distriot  Gooii  of 

the  United  States,  in  and  for  the  Eastern 

District  of  Pennsylyania. 


1  the 


iitof 


w 


f 


i 


MYSTJ 


Al^ 


MA 


li  B.  ] 


u 


THE 


MYSTERIES  OF  A  CONVENT. 


AND  THE 


AWFUL  DISCLOSURES 


Ol 


IMARIA  MONE: 


PHILADELPHIA : 

%  8*  FBTBBBOHy  101,  OHSSTNXTT 


/^jV 


rl 


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•■ff^"--V.;  !■ 


n 


M 


■) 


LIT 


<«Tliiibo 
iUihoMii 

one  of  the' 
te«nthoent 
peiiM  inf 
tured  that 
of  the  prew 
ed  withth 
inbjeotwit 
ti7»  luieti 
hereeanot 
ofeepeolal 
of  the  moil 
what  he  ei 
ihottld  tea 
work,  and 
•houidtliri 
in  OTerja 
Sun* 


I  :   . 

I  '  i 


k     ! 


t  11 


LITERARY  NOTICK 


^^ThiibookiHlllMMgwlftoiigbt  foraadappneiatedhy 
iU  fhoM  dBotrel J  and  oontdenuoiitly  opposed  to  the  wont 
d  tynnniet— tA«  tyranny  of  r§ligion.  It  is  nnquettionftbly 
OBO  of  the  beet  worki  that  nai  been  Uiaed  dariAc  the  nin^ 
teenth  oentorr.  Hr.  Peterson  has  been  at  oonsiderable  e>* 
pense  in  getttnir  np  thk  interesting  book  i  and  we  ISmI  as- 
sured that  it  will  haTe  a  rapid  sale,  as  there  are  fswpenons 
of  the  present  day*  but  who  wish  to  be  madefollj  aoonaint- 
ed  with  this  important  satjoot.  The  author  grapmea  hit 
snbjeot  with  a  keen,  determined  intellect,  and  all  the  bigo- 
try, fanaticism,  practises,  and  doings  in  a  Oonventi  are 
here  exposed  to  the  light  of  the  noon-day  sun.  It  is  a  work 
of  espedal  interest  at  the  present  time.  The  author  is  one 
of  the  most  celebrated  Methodist  preachers  now  lining,  and 
what  he  exposes  and  narrates  he  does  from  the  heart  All 
should  read  and  study  it.  It  is  a  rich,  highly  interesting 
work,  and  the  hw  prfoe  at  which  it  is  published,  wUl,  as  it 
should,  bring  it  within  the  leaoh  of  the  tens  of  thousands 
in  OTery  section  of  our  country  that  should  read  iV^Prm 


i 


BftlltitDItl 
<rfttlIO 
fCHP   M* 

Betunlnf' 
tctoiid 

•dgOK 

KindphflUl 

A  oomM 
tMri 


lam 


LONTBNTSi 


OHAPTBB  !• 

Anti^pM  BUUMrion— FiMiOj  Portraiti   Ctoml  €f  •!• 
Ant^yA— Vftthv  And  dmnhttr  •t«MM*««t««««MMMM«*M 

OHAPTBB  n. 

BftiititnMhadowtd— A  danglitar'taaitolf-^aMM 
ofttnio»--^etietim*idooiii--TlitdAiightir^lMti- 


lor 


••«•••••• 


OHAPTBB  in. 


i— — M— MM»>«>«f 


Betonliif  oonMiooineM^Loiiiio   the   Oiphtft-A 
tciind  In  ii«ed-^Q«uilike  «srmpitlgr--IMtiiiltiitl- 


•d  goiMOii^. 


OHAFIEB  IV. 

Slad-lMAiM  ti«iiker--NobltiMolT«--AfiiMroiMpi«> 
poiil--OI>Ugattonietiinied— Athankftaiiittl,-   IB 

OHAPTBB  Y. 

A  eomfoftebto  niitftt— BtUitmtioiir— TIm  ptiMBt 
glri*s  Tietlm--Bloodfor1»kiod--V]i«oliiilliitMifii 
Ihiif  miiittd  dioMB   Tbt  oipliiii' 

OHAPISB  VI. 

Loviit  IMM^  toiiftft  ltaiiot--Lodkiikg  toward!  ABM* 
riti  OflwitotiktPtitttaadlUito  wilhhif^ 
l<Cftof«B>i^ioim<>imtqr"Iiwito6P>t?ith  A>» 

fll 


>  <i 


■i  » -    "it- 


yiii 


OOMTJUIIlk 


ilfal  In  tiM  new  Bepnblio-^niiirdh  of  tlie  Jeiaits 
— Infterfiew  with  Fath«r  Jabert 86 

IiOiilM't  nflaetlons  on  tlio  Intarvldw— Iti  eflbot  on 
Loniio  Anilfr^  of  Piano  tnd  Mario— Theheart's 
ooniolfttloni   Thowfly  Jotuit 89 

OHAPTEBYm. 

TholoTor'a  dzeom—Tho  confessional— Ito  effects  on 
Loniso— Her  determination  to  enter  the  OonTont 
of  St.  Mary's— Sorrow  of  her  friends— Enters  the 
OonTenti  nnder  the  appellation  of  Sister  francos 
— Eathar  JubertPs  wily  schemes -    88 

OHAPTEB  IX. 

HoMNm  in  prospect— Ecstacy  of  Father  Jnbert— 
Power,  apostrophe  to— The  compact  not  to  be 
fbrgotten— Arriral  of  the  Legate— His  treatment 
—Approaching  ceremony— High  Mass  celebrated 
— Gonsistorial  Hall,  its  splendid  Itunitnrs  and  ilt- 
tings— Procession  of  priests— The  ceremony  of 
lactallation— AwM  oath— The  cnp  of  blood— 
The  Bible  cnrsed  and  burned— Fierce  exultation 
of  the  priests— The  American  flag  of  liberty  tram- 
pled nnder  foot,  and  torn  in  pieces— Father  Ja- 
bert made  Head  of  the  Order  of  St,  Ignatius  Lo- 
yola, for  the  United  States  of  Americar-Honjage 
and  obeisance  of  the  priestsp-Oath  of  allegiance.   85 

OHAPTEB  X. 

Bit  Fiktbor  Qenond's  affections  for  Sister  Frances  on 
the  wane— BemoTOs  her,  b^  instituUng  her  toihe  , 
oOoa  of  Superior  in  the  OouTcnt  of  Annunciation 
—Bar  actiTO  and  proselyting  eflbrts  shortly  after 
■■snmlng  ofloa  Timily  do  Yers— The  Superior i 
basa  oonduet  towarda  her ^ ^ 


ooHsmri. 


0HA7TEB  ZI« 

iVktlLerGeiMnil'bidsittotheGonyeni— His  Inte- 
xMt  foot  Sitter  Theresa— The  deformed  nim— Pro- 
poses a  meeting  at  midnight  with  Sister  Theresa 
~The  If  other  Bnperlor's  kind  entertainment  of 
the  Father  Qeneral  in  the  private  parlour— Her 
chagrin  at  his  abruptly  leaving  her— Suspicion— 
Sister  Theresa's  sorrow  and  anxiety  at  reoeiving 
the  Father's  note— Her  trepidation  on  meeting 
the  Father  Qeneral— He  reassures  her— His  wily 
stiatagems  to  accomplish  his  base  object— A  wolf 
in  sheep's  clothing 49* 

OHAPTEBXII. 

snegnum— The  iS&mily  of  Mr.  Moreton— Discus- 
sion on  the  education  given  in  boarding-schools.    57 

.     OHAFTEB  Xin« 

r.  Moreten  visits  New  York— His  conversation  with 
Mr.  Yandnsen— Its  effects  upon  Mr.  Moreton— 
Mr.  Yandusen's  letter  to  the  Mother  Superior...    64 

CHAPTEB  XIV. 

r.  Moreton's  sanguine  partiality  to  OathoUosehools 
—Mrs.  Moreton's  fears  and  doubts— Julia  sent  as 
a  boarder  to  the  Convent  of  the  Annunciation- 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  M,  attend  the  first  examination- 
Engaging  manners  of  the  Mother  Superior-rBx- 
tras— The  parents  receive  alarming  intelligence— 
Bistrsss  and  anxiety— Mr.  Moreton  hastens  to 
snatch  his  child  from  her  impending  doom— Ar- 
rives at  the  Convent,  and  demands  to  see  his 
dauf^ter— Falsehood  and  treachery  of  the  Mother 
Buperior-^uUa  rushea  into  her  flillisi's  arms, 
•Dd  is  borne  by  him  fhnn  the  haled  Convent......    67 


I' 
It 


1't 


} 
I' 


1        *i 


CN>mirai» 


CQSARBB  X?. 

Julia*!  iiainitiTe— Spedont  and  artftil  eondaol  of  fha 
Hofhar  Supvior— How  the  letter  was  written  ... 

GHAFTBB  ZVL 

Siitar  Tbareia,  ber  nifferiiigi  and  death— Her  dying 
waniiif  to  Julia— Ite  eibet  npon  Jaliir— The  Mo- 
*    ther  Soperior't  rage  in  the  ehamber  of  death- 
Hie  Eather  General'^  base  loheme  to  enrich  the 
order— The  Mother  Superior  in  a  dilemma, 

'  Hie  Mother  Superior  outwitted— Condng  and  pray- 
ing—Hasty summons  to  the  Father  General— In« 
foiling  the  dead— Jesuitical  conduct. 8| 

CHAPTER  XYIIL 

The  Father  Oeneral  obeys  the  summons  iu  haste— 
.  Meeting  between  him  and  the  Mother  Superior^ 
A  Tile  plot  conducted  between  them— The  M6* 
ther  Superior  in  a  new  character— The  Father 
Oeneral  turned  graye-digger— Revolting  manner 
of  burying  the  dead. 99| 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

Dnplidty— The  plot  thickens— Reward  offered  for  the 
missing  nun— A  substitute  found— A  third  party 
In  the  plot— Threatened  tumult 98 1 

CHAPTER  XX. 

The  pretended  nun  undergoes  a  Judical  examination 
—Jesuitical  mancenning— An  apt  pupil— The  in- 
quiry tenninates  in  CiTOur  of  the  supposed  nun.  104 1 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

Tha  F|ttfaer  Ocnaial's  lasidensa— The  Ubiaiy-  Splen^ 
did  ftmllua  and  flttinga  of  the  eetabliahminl-y 


CP01ITJIVT8* 


Xi 


PAoa 


AilitiMrGtiiml'toltttartotbe  Mother  Bupe- 

uponplot 107 


CHAFTEBZZII. 

Eilhtr  Otneral'i  aiudetj— Hii  interritw  and 
tnnsaotioa  with  the  fldM  BmUto  da  Yara— Tha 
Miieated  Uttos-Tha  Italian  ieor«tai7i-«flot  and 
«mntfr-ploi— Fietio  and  Alioa^Tha  intimaoj 


m 

OHAFTBB  ZXIIL 

f§  pannta— Plaoed  in  a  oanrent  at  an  early  age 
— -New  fbelings  produced  by  new  scenes— Evening 
lamblea— Hntnal  attachment— The  dawning  of 
light— Iti  eifeet  upon  Fietro  and  Alice— Their 
conTonation  and  resolution 110 

CHAPTER  ZXIY. 

ice's  ignorance  of  the  true  nature  of  the  plot  she 
was  engaged  in— Her  anxiety  on  that  account— 
Her  determination  to  act  right— AniTal  of  Mr. 
Prentiss— Alioe^s  perturbation  and  alarm  in  con- 
sequenea— Her  interriew  with  Mr«  Prentiss— 
Alice  divulges  the  particulars  to  Mr.  Preittisa— 
His  astonishment  at  the  recital— Hii  determina- 
tiMitobafdendAlioa— EsoapeofPietroandAliee  128 

CHAPTER  ZZV. 

>tle  mle  of  the  Mother  Superiw— A  reyolution 
in  the  eonvent— The  insurrection  fnelled  by  tha 
Ilifher  general— Alarming  intelligence,  on  his  ra- 
torn  to  New  York- His  frantio  conduct  incon- 
segoanaa. US 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

leftiglllvesaififaal  BaltiBMra—Baslda  with  Mr. 
pritala  wadding- 


4 


'.«-.k!- 


\::A- 


■-■  ->   r 

(  '  ■'  '  ' 


ir 


r  1  5:;-« 


lU^m 


sa 


OOSTENXQ* 


fDrKewOrleans^Pleasuras  of  • 
Alum  fti  tiie  appeannce  of  a  suppoaed  pirate— 
-^z^paiatlon  fur  action— Oxonndlaaaalanii-^At- 
liTalat  Kaw Orleaot— Fietj  and.pioaparitj  of 
PtetEO  and  AUoa ••••••• 

GHAPTBBZXVn. 

Tha  Father  Qanend'a  interview  with  Mr.  Wilmot— 
An  angr7  diapntation— Crimination  and  ra-erlm- 
inatlon— The  axeh-plotter  towb  Tepgeance  againat 
his  tool— Proceeds  to  pat  his  threat  in  exeontion 
— Interriew  with  Mr.  Ketohiun— The  lather 
General's  orders  to  him— Scouts  sent  in  all  direc- 
tions, in  aearoh  of  the  fugitives— All  search  in 
vain— Mr.  Wilmot  and  hia  iaadij  ruined^  and 
turned  out  in  the  streets— Tidings  of  the  lost  lU- 
gitiyesy  from  Father  Beauprea l| 

GHAFTEE  XXVIII. 

Growing  abase  of  power  hy  the 'Mother  Superior— 
The  Father  General  resolvea  to  remove  her  by  a 
violent  death— The  Mother  Superior  detenninea 
on  a  similar  fiite  for  him— Double-dealing  of  Sis- 
ter Martinar-By  her  exaggerated  reporta  of  the 
Father  General's  intrigues  with  the  nuns,  the  Mo- 
ther Superior  wrought  up  to  a  state  of  ftensy— 
Fiendish  exultation  of  Martina  at  the  success  of 
lieradheme— The  instruments  of  death— Soliloquy 
and  prayer  of  the  Mother  Superior— Change  in 
her  deportment  14i| 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

ne  Father  General's  visit  to  the  convent— His  conr* 
teouaand  afEskble  reoepttcp— The  Motiier  Supe- 
lier  soddenly  ehangea  her  demeanour,  and  a*> 
euseahim  of  inconstancy— He  solemnly  denies 


XIU 


oojiTJurak 


ttMaeooMtton— SIm  witerattt  Iht  ditfge»  and  !•- 
gjQMti  blm  to  wwmtf  hf  Um  vligiiiy  thai  it  li 
Mmt  era  aha  wlU  bcdiaTa  him— She  itabe  him, 
whUe  taUBg  the  eath— Paulina,  another  Tietlia 
to  her  gniltj  paadont  atabbed  by  the  Mother  Su- 
peiioriinthearbonr— Destroyaheraelfl^poiflon  154 

CHAPTER  ZXX. 

and  oonatemation  in  the  oonTent— Diaoorerj 
of  the  dead  bodlea— The  bodiea  of  the  Mother  So* 
peiiorand  fiiiter  Paulina  laid  in  the  same  grave 
— Alleflisrta  to  elnddate  the  mystery  in  Tain— 
The ,  offloea  of  Father  General  and  Mother  Supe- 
tier  iUled  np— Partial  revelations  and  sospidons 
ofthedying  Sister  Martina— Olosing  remarks 102 

OONOLTTBIOir. 

-Lsssons  to  be  gained  ficom  a  right  nse  of 
the  narratlTe— The  dnty  of  parents— <3aation8  to 
yonng  persons— Ck)nneotlon  between  Popery  and 
lnlldelit]M3ura  downikll  of  enor  and  saperatition 
—BaiBeat  entreaty  to  embraoe  the  truth  ..••••.••••.  lU 


v! 


C 


V    ill 


'' 


:■'■  i 


k 


t 


STEB 


iqne  masuim 


riBssthe  < 
>iii  a  Uw  n 
[toaa,  embo 
~  witimi 
ji  and  ih< 
ij  a  fierce  c 
Teneral 
lesne  in  wh 
le  Connts  c 
icceadon  it 
lofpolitica 
itoitsTer 
Iding  wore  i 
)aghont  iti 
'  antique  : 
itcare,ind4 
»•  Orerfb 
haUyWbioh 
'  fyWaisn 

mt  now  i 

le  upon  the 

lail^aad  M 

17  of  whidi 

eonitmotii 

tobelom 
ly  who  111 


THE 

STERIES  OF  A  CONVENT. 


f      ''if- 

f  I 


OHAFTEBL 

ine  mandon— Tamily  poitndtiH-Ooimt  of  8t«  AnlifB 
— Ikther  and  daughter* 

riBD8  tiha  doie  of  the  laat  oontaij,  thwe  stood, 
tin  a  few  milei  of  Paris,  aa  andent,  moss-gibwn 
[tcian,  embosomed  in  oaks,  whose  gnarledumbs, 
~  with  mistletoe,  gaye  evidenoe  of  their  anti- 
and  showed  that  they  had  battled  against 
ij^  a  fierce  onset  of  the  elements, 
^his  Tenerable  pile,  with  the  ample  and  handsome 
lesne  in  whose  midst  it  stood,  was  the  family  seat 
le  Counts  of  St.  Anbyn,  through  whose  long  line 
looession  it  had  descended  from  sire  to  son,  in 
of  political  oonTulsions  which  had  shaken  the 
lie  to  its  TeiT  foundations.  ETcrything  about  the 
Iding  wore  &e  impress  of  time.  The  famitnre, 
mghout  its  almost  numberless  rooms,  was  of  ttie 
antique  fashion,  and  had  been  prtfierved  with 
it  care,  indeed  with  a  sort  of  superstiiciouB  rever- 
).  Orer  the  spacious  fire-place  in  the  great  dhi- 
hall,  which  hsid  so  often  rung  with  the  Toioe  of 
Ft  was  suspended  the  once  brilliaatlT  illumin- 
.  mt  now mscoloured, pedigree  of  tiaefamilr; 
le  upon  the  oaken  panelled  walls  were  hung  siuts 
isil,  and  /implements  of  war  and  of  the  chase, 
ly  of  which  were  of  the  most  primitiTe  and  curi- 
construction.  In  yarious  parts  of  the  building 
)  to  be  found  nortraitsof  those  members  of  the 
ly  who  had  neen  remarkable  for  aohicTemenfa 

7 


ti^ 


i 

f 

! 

F;     , 

1 

J  ■ 

'■*'■ '  -1'.  ■ ; 

!,'            '     :. 

■]        ' 

i 

l-l 


't. 


m 
m 


¥ 


''-■■fli 


I;   ;:t 


8 


mrsTsaiBS  ov  ▲  comrsNT. 


on  the  battle  field,  or  in  the  tournament ;  for  U 
ing,  for  statennanBhip,  or  for  personal  beanty : 
mailed  warrior,  the  tuting  Imiffht,  the  grave  ooi 
oillor  of  state,  the  robed  priest,  and  the  lovely  be 
of  her  day.    In  the  chapel,  the  floors  and  walb  we 
oovered  with  marble  tablets  and  monuments,  who 
bass-reliefs  and  inscriptions  declared  the  honouni 
the  race  in  bygone  days  ;  while  in  the  library  wi 
carefully  preserved  an  ancient  volume  of  velloi 
heavilybound,  and  clasped  with  brass,  upon  whc 
broad  pages  the  chaplains  of  the  f amilj^  had  be 
wont  to  record  the  history  of  the  successive  count 
An  old  oaken  chest,  which  stood  in  one  corner  of 
room,  was  filled  with  musty  rolls  and  moth-eat 
parchments,  that  told  many  a  curious  tale,  and  ooi 
tained  the  evidence  of  many  a  dark  transaction. 

Charles,  the  Count  of  St.  Aubyn,  at  the  perio 
when  our  story  opens,  had  distinguished  himself  in 
the  wars  of  France,  and  had  fought  many  a  well^ 
contested  battle ;  but  having,  in  the  last  of  these, 
received  a  dangerous  wound  which  wholly  incapad* 
tated  him  for  the  further  service  of  his  counti^,  ii] 
the  army,  he  had  retired  to  his  patrimonial  residence,! 
where  he  spent  much  of  his  time  in  superintendiogl 
the  education  of  his  only  daughter,  Louise,  a  beauti*] 
f  ul  girl,  now  in  her  eighteenth  year ;  his  remaining 
leisure  bemg  devoted  to  the  management  of  his  es- 
tate, and  to  court  intrigue.  I 

Naturally  of  a  cold,  haughty,  and  tyrannical  dis- 
position, which  his  long  career  as  a  military  leader 
had  by  no  means  abated,  bu^  on  the  contrary,  had 
greatly  aggravated ;  excessively  vain  of  his  ance^ 
try ;  impatient  of  all  contradiction,  and  ambitious  of 

Sower  and  preferment ;  Count  St.  Aubyn  was  but 
1  prepared  for  the  accomplishment  of  a  task  which 
had  been  early  devolved  upon  him  by  the  death  of 
the  oountess,  soon  after  giving  birth  to  Louise ;  and 
this  task  was  rendered  ttie  more  difficult  by  hetin* 
beritance  of  her  father's  traits  of  oharacter ;  and  by 


m^- 


mnnrsBiBS  of  a  oohtbnt^ 


le  faot  that,  while  absent  from  home  in  the  serrice 
his  oountij,  he  had  confided  his  daughter  to  the 
)  of  a  maiden  annt,  who  was  too  indolent  to  take 
interest  in  what  so  nearly  oonoemed  her  niece, 
to  the  chaplain  of  the  family— a  Boman  Oatholic 
nest— who  thought  that  any  knowledge  beyond  that 
)f  the  breviary  was  wholly  useless  for  a  young  and 
santiful  girl,  sole  heiress  to  a  noble  name  and 
rincely  estate.  Possessing,  however,  an  inquiring 
dndand  great  natural  talents,  Louise  spent  much 
)f  her  time,  from  the  age  of  twelve  years,  in  her  fa- 
ther's library ;  reading  such  books  as  suited  her 
fan<qr,  and  especiallv  delighting  in  the  perusal  of  the 
[volame  of  vellum  which  contained  the  nistory  of  her 
ancestors.  Finding,  too,  the  key  which  unlocked  the 
old  oaken  chest,  she  eagerly  pored  over  the  contents 
of  its  time-rusted  pardunents.  At  other  times,  she 
would  ramble  over  the  gloomy  pile,  passing  from 
room  to  room,  s^endinp  hours  in  lookmg  at  the  fa- 
I  mily  pictures  which  smiled  or  frowned  upon  her  from 
the  walls,  and  in  examining  the  curiously  wrought 
tapestry  with  which  some  ox  the  rooms  were  draped ; 
or,  going  forth  into  the  forest  near  the  chateau,  she 
would  s&oll  from  place  to  place,  as  her  fancy  dictat- 
ed, or  sit  bjr  the  side  of  the  rippling  stream,  lost  in 
bright  musings,  engendered  by  the  works  of  fiction 
she  had  read.  Companionship  she  had  none,  save 
when,  after  supper,  she  eutered  the  servant's  hall, 
where  she  would  sit  until  midnight,  listening  to  the 
legends  which  were  recited  to  her  by  the  old  retain^ 
ers  of  the  family,  who  had  spent  more  than  half  a 
oentory  in  the  household,  and  by  those  who  had  ac- 
companied her  father  to  the  wars.  Then,  retiring 
to  her  room,  with  her  imagination  wrought  up  to  tiie 
highest  pitch,  she  would  Ue  awake  for  hours.  Thus 
raised  until  she  had  passed  her  seventeenth  year,  it 
is  not  wonderful  ^at  when  Gount  St.  Aubyn,  him* 
self,  undertook  to  superintend  the  education  of  his 
daughter,  he  should  find  her  mind  in  chaotic  confa<« 
221  h 


;:4 


i 


fv 


10 


MIBTABIBfl  OF  ▲  COUVSMT* 


810O,  and  bar  dispoation  willal  and  impatimit  of 
rettralot. 

Fortunately  for  both  of  then,  the  protracted  il1o< 
oonaequetit  upon  the  aevere  wound  that  he  had  i 
oeiTed  in  his  last  battle,  and  during  which  Louise  hail 
nursed  her  father  with  the  greatest  affection  and  ten.1 
demess,  scarcely  ever  leaving  his  bedside,  had  serredl 
greatly  to  attach  them  to  each  other,  preparatory  tol 
Uiose  collisions  of  temper  which  were  sure  to  be  thtl 
result  of  the  association,  as  teacher  and  pupil,  of  two 
persons  so  unhappily  constituted  as  Louise  ^nd  thi 
Gount.  In  spite  of  this,  however,  scenes  frequentW 
occurred  in  the  Library,  during  the  three  years  which 
were  spent  by  them,  in  this  relation,  which  would 
beggar  discription ;  the  father  in  a  storm  of  wrath ; 
andihe  daugnter  alternately  weeping  passionately, 
and  then  turning  upon  her  parent,  with  all  the  f u^ 
of  an  ungOTemable  spirit.  Ludomitable  in  his  pur> 
pose,  however,  the  Count  had  at  length  succeeded, 
to  some  extent  at  least,  in  bringing  Louise  into  sub* 
jection  to  hiairon  will,  when  events  occurred  which 
changed  the  whole  tenor  of  her  life,  and  marvellously 
shaped  her  f  utnre^destiny.  A  recital  of  these  ws 
shall  defer  to  the  next  chapter. 


CHA]^TEB  IL 

Bfsnts  foreshadowed— A  daughter's  anxiety— ▲  scene  of  te^ 
^     ror— The  victim's  doom—The  danghtei^  horror. 

QatreBS  had  been  in  operation,  for  years,  tending  to 
revolution  and  bloodshed  in  France :— causes  which 
it  it  the  province,  not  of  the  writer,  but  of  the  histo- 
rian, to  trace  and  to  record.  The  tremblinga  and 
ominoua  mutteringa  of  the  glaciers  had  long  been 
felt  and  heard  :*good  men,  and  there  were  a  few, 
bad  stood  aghast,  ae  the  earth  reeled  beneath  their 
leet,  in  fearful  expectation  of  sodden  and  dire  oatas- 


1CT8TBBIB8  OF  A  OOTPfSK't* 


11 


opbe ;  bad  meD,  and  their  oame  was  le^cioD,  had, 
Htn  malioioot  exultation,  looked  forward  to  mighty 
ipbeaTiugs  of  popular  excitement,  which  ihould 
Muefittbembj  the  change  they  should  effect,  be 
fhst  change  what  it  might,  and  ruin  whom  it  would. 
it  length,  the  mountain  masses  are  loosened ;  the 
mlaiicbe  descends,  crashing,  crushing,  destroying, 
fn  its  downward  rush,  life,  houour,  fortune,^all  that 
It  had  cost  the  labourers  of  centuries  to  rear :  —at  one 
fell  blow,  ciTil  government,  the  rights  of  man,  reli- 
gion, are  overwhelmed  in  one  undistiugnisbable  mass 
)f  utter  ruin ;  while  anarchy,  cruelty,  and  impiety, 
lit  enthroned  in  gloomy  grandeur  and  the  wide- 
Ispread  desolation,  wearing  a  triple  crown,  baptized 
lin  the  blood  of  more  than  a  millionof  victims ;— fit 
emblem  of  that  worn  by  *'  Babylon  the  great,  the  Mo^ 
\Uwr  qf harlots,  and  abominations  of  the  earth  /'  which 
would  exalt  thus  to  sit  gloating  upon  the  ruins,  not 
of  one  province  or  state  only  but  of  all  the  world; 
while  toe  wailings,  not  of  infidel  France  alone,  but 
of  Frotestantism  every  where,  should  come  welling 
I  up  as  sweetest  melody  in  her  ears. 

Count  St.  Aubyn,— Count  no  longer,  for  titles  of 
honour  had  been  atx>lished, — was  not  one  of  those 
who  could  be  inert  or  inactive  at  such  a  crisivas  this ; 
and  soon  rendered  himself  obnoxious  to  the  fury  of 
the  **  Iv/enud  Triunmrato.*'  He  had,  of  late,  been 
frequently  absent  from  home,  during  the  day,  but 
had  always  returned,  at  niffht,  for  the  protection  of 
his  daughter.  At  length,  however,  he  came  not,  ai" 
usual;  and  Louise  felt  greatly  alarmed,  for  she  was 
apprised  of  passing  events,  as  they  occurred  from  day 
to  day.  She  went  to  the  great  hall  door,  and,  look- 
ing out  upon  the  darkness,  waited  long  and  anxious* 
ly  for  her  fkther^s  return  but  he  came  not.  She  sent 
messengers  to  the  city,  that  she  might,  if  possible. 
learn  what  had  befallen  him.  The  old  clocK,  whidj 
Btood  in  the  hall,  and  whose  tickings  seemed  to  vi- 
brate through  her  every  nerve,  at  last  told  the  hour 


^^1 


12 


HY&TEBIES  OF  A  OONTEIfT* 


of  midnight.    Still  he  came  not,  nor  bad  her  mesttDi 
gen  returned.  She  knew  not  what  to  do.  nor  whoil 
to  tend ;  she  feared  the  woret^  yet  hoped  hoorly  fori 
her  father's  arrival.     Weaned  and  exhausted  byl 
anxiety,  as  well  as  chilled  by  the  damp  night  air,  nm 
went  to  her  room,  and  tried  to  compose  herself,  but 
in  Tain;  tiie  old  clock  continued  to  sound  forth, 
from  its  iron  throat,  hour  after  hour,  and  still  hv 
father,— whom  she  lored,  in  spite  of  their  outbunti 
of  temper  in  the  past, — her  father  came  not.    Hai* 

Sy  summoning  her  maid,  she  bade  her  descend  to 
e  seryants'  'hall,  and  order  the  coachman  to  g«t 
ready  the  carriage ;  and,  lust  as  the  day  broke^  she 
threw  herself  into  it,  and,  saying.  "To  the  city/' 
leaned  heavily  upon  the  cushions,  in  a  perfect  fever  | 
of  excitement. 
It  was  already  seven  o'clock  when  she  reached  the 

gates  of  Paris ;  and  here  fresh  difficulties  arose  in 
er  path.  She  was  refused  admittance ;  but,  joppcr* 
tunely  for  her,  a  friend  of  her  father,  who  hwl  some 
influence  with  the  fl[uard^  arrived  just  at  the  mo- 
ment, and  sucoeeded  in  bnbing  him  to  let  her  pass; 
the  stipulation  beibg  made,  however,  that  the  carri- 
am  should  remain  outside  the  barrier,  and  that  she 
snould  enter  the  city,  alone  and  on  foot,  so  as  to  at- 
tract no  observation. 

What  a  scene  met  her  gaze,  on  her  entrance  into 
the  thoroughfares  throuj^  wnich  she  had  repeatedly 
passed  before,  a  light-hearted  maiden,  richly  appa- 
reled, seated  in  the  old  family  coach,  Dy  the  nide  of 
her  father,  the  Oount ;  of  whose  dignified  and  com- 
manding appearance  she  was  so  justly  proud.  Kow, 
alone,  on  foot,  and,  happily  for  her  own  safety,  but 
indifferently  clad,  with  her  heart  palpitating  under 
the  iufiuenoe  of  fear  and  anxiety,  she  had  to  make 
her  way  through  a  dense  mass  of  human  beings, 
heaving  and  rolling  like  the  waves  of  the  ocean, 
men  moved  by^  the  storm.  Here  were  men,  drunken 
with  excitement  and  intoxicated  with  power,  for  the 


XTBXESZBII  07  ▲  OOKVSVT* 


13 


job  ruled— dronkaQ  men  utteriug  the  niott  awf  al 
ksphemiea,  and  oryinfr,  in  tones  which  called  tho 
very  ioul  within  her,  <*  Blood  f  Alood.  Moro  Blood  f* 
Here  were  woman  with  diehcTelled  hair  ;  torn  and 
ragged  dreties,  besmeared  with  blood ;  countenances 
haggard  and  pale  for  want  of  food ;  women  bias- 
pheming,  and  crying,  in  accents  of  despair,  **  Bread  ! 
Bread,  Down  wUh  the  AridocraU—give  us  breads 
or  we  die**  There  the  infuriated  crowd  was  m^- 
iog  a  bonfire  of  the  elegant  but  broken  furniture 
which  had  Just  been  taken  from  a  neighbouring 
mansion— that  mansion  in  flames;  while  another 
party  was  dragging  to  the  guillotine  the  late  owner 
of  this  princely  establishment— his  only  crime,  per- 
haps, «his  wealth.  A  few  steps  further  on,  and  she 
beheld  some  unfortunate  being  hanging,  lifeness^ 
from  a  lamp-post;  and  adYancing  but  a  uiort  dis* 
tance  beyond,  she  encounters  a  dead  body,  lying  on 
the  pavement,  with  its  ghastly,  upturned  features, 
grottud  by  the  heel  of  some  mffian,  until  they  could 
not  be  distinguished.  Blood,  blood,  blood— every 
where ;  in  the  street ;  on  the  pavement ;  standing  in 
great  puddles,  running  in  the  gutters,  spattered  upon 
the  wails  in  the  houses,  staining  the  faces  and  gar- 
ments of  the  populace ;  blood  crying  to  hearen  for 
vengeance  upon  the  regicides,  the  homicides.  O,  it 
was  a  horrible  speotaole— a  dght  to  haye  sickened 
her  woman's  heart— a  sight  which  she  never  forsot^ 
and  which  mysteriously  aifected  her  whole  after  ufe, 
as  it  stood  in  connexion  with  the  eyent  of  that  morn- 
iuff  which  froze  that  heart  to  stone,  and  foTeyar 
dned  up  that  kindly  emotion.  Drawing  her  shawl 
closely  about  her  person,  and  stopping  firom  time  to 
time  to  recoyer  herself,  as  in  the  swayings  to  and 
fro  of  the  maddened  crowd,  she  was  now  hiuried  nu 
pidly  forward,  and  now  almost  hurried  to  the  ground; 
She  had  succeeded  in  passing  throuffh  seyeraistreeta 
as  yet  tmharmed,  when,  on  suddenly  turning  a  cor- 
ner, she  stood  in  fullyiew  of  the  guillotine;  around 


\    •:.    l 


u 


inrSTBBXBS  OF  ▲  OOimEQVT. 


wbioh  WM  (rath«nd  m  motley  multitudt  of  men,  w< 
men,  and  ohlldren,  all  todferating  that  terrible 
— «<  Blood !  blood !"  One  fflance  soffioed  to  tell 
that  she  had  found  her  father,  but  under  what  fear< 
lul  droumttaueet.  There  he  stood  erect  upon 
loaffoldt  easting  a  look  of  dignified  defianee  upoil 
the  surging  mob,  thirsting  for  his  life.  A  momeot| 
more,  and  he,  who  had  never  feared  death  upon  tin 
battle  field,  calmly  lays  his  head  upon  the  block. 
SpelUbound,  Louise  sees  the  fatal  knife  descend  with 
lightning  speed,  but  she  sees  no  more :  with  one  wild 
shriek  of  agony  she  falls  swooning  upon  the  hardl 
stones;  the  last  link  severed  which  bound  her  in{ 
sympathy  to  her  race. 


CHAPTEB  m. 

Betnrning  consdousness—Lonise  the  orphsn— A  IHend  in 
ueed--Oenuine  sympathy— Ditinteretted  gtneroiity. 

Oh  recovering  from  the  state  of  insensibility  into 
which  she  had  been  thrown  by  the  dreadful  spsc- 
taele  that  she  had  witnessed,  she  was  surprised  to 
find  herself  on  a  low  pallet,  in  a  small  and  ill-fur- 
uiihed  apartment,  with  a  female  bending  over  her, 
whom  she  did  not  recollect  to  have  seen  before,  bu- 
sily engaged  in  chafing  her  temples. 

^*  Where  amir  died  the  unhappy  girl.  <'0, 
where  am  I,  and  where  is  my  dear  father  P  I  have 
had  such  a  horrible  dream  1  I  thought  I  saw  m? 
father  lay  his  head  upon  the  blood/  block— that! 
saw  his  gray  hairs  fioating  on  the  breeze,  and  then 
—I  saw  that  terrible  knife— but  tell  me,  O,  tell  me/' 
she  added,  eagerly  grasping  the  arm  of  the  stranger, 
^'havel  been  dreaming,  or  is  it,  indeed,  afesriul 
reslity  P  8peak,  I  entreat  you,  for  my  poor  hesd 
reels  so,  that  I  cannot  remember  any  thing,** 

The  good  woman  sought  to  soothe  ber,  and  to 


etadetbeqi 
Iwasforher  . 

until,  ftodln^ 

jagonj—    .   , 
'    «*Tben,im 

dered  my  P0< 
again  feu  baj 
Her  kii»d  l 
to  consciottsi 
refused  to  t 
have  tried  tc 
Louise,  f  ul 
truly  an  orpi 
dered  bef  orel 
ingher  birti 
all  France ; 
tosswdfrom, 
wearied  nat^ 
and  she  lay 
nessof  the 
her  young  v 
While  she 
the  reader, 
horror,  and 
ther  gttillot 
erowd,  an  c 
who,  attrac 
face,  discoi 
eral,  the  O 
moment,  st 
Hastily  sei 
pavement, 
ishich  sto 
in  his  arm 
to  trampU 
and,  fore 
through  t 
appeared 


XTITBBIBS  Of  ▲  OOVnilT. 


16 


trade  tb«  question ;  telling  her  how  importnnt  it 
wasforhertobeqniet;  but  nil  her  benerolent  el • 
forte  were  in  Tain.  Louise  pressed  tb*  question, 
until,  finding  it  was  still  eyaaed,  she  screamed  in 
I  agony — 

**  Then,  indeed,  it  was  no  dream.  Ther  hare  mur* 
dered  my  poor  father.  Take,  O  take  me  to  him  f'  and 
agaiDfeil  back  exhausted  and  faint  upon  the  couch. 

Her  kind  hostess  aRsin  succeeded  in  restoring  her 
to  consciousness ;  and  then,  in  spite  of  all  entreatiee. 
refused  to  answer  any  questions,  until  she  oould 
have  tried  to  sleep. 

Louise,  fully  aware  of  her  loss,  and  that  she  was 
truly  an  orphan,  for  her  father  had  been  cruelly  mur* 
dered  before  her  eyes ;  her  mother  had  died  in  giy« 
ing  her  birth ;  and  she  had  not  a  blood  relatiye  in 
all  France ;  wrung  her  hands  in  silent  agony,  and 
toBSod  from  side  to  side  upon  the  bed,  until  at  length 
wearied  nature  yielded  to  the  soft  impulse  of  sleep : 
and  she  lay,  for  four  or  fiye  hours,  in  unconscious- 
ness of  the  sorrows  which  had  settled  down  upon 
her  young  spirit,  like  a  pall  of  darkness. 

While  she  thus  sleeps,  it  may  be  aa  well  to  inform 
the  reader,  that,  when  Louise  uttered  the  cry  of 
horror,  and  swooned  in  the  street,  on  seeing  her  fa- 
ther guillotined,  there  stood  not  far  from  her  in  the 
crowd,  an  old  soldier,  in  the  dress  of  a  labourer, 
who,  attracted  b^  her  scream,  and  looking  upon  her 
face,  discoTcred  in  her  the  daughter  of  hw  old  md* 
eral,  the  Count  St.  Aubyn.  whose  blood  was,  at  that 
moment,  streaming  from  tne  neighbouring  scaffold. 
Hastily  seizing  the  poor  girl,  as  she  lay  uponttie 
pa? ement,  her  dress  stained  with  the  crimton  fluid, 
which  stood  in  puddles  all  about  her,  he  raifted  luMT 
in  his  arms,  white  the  rushing  crowd  Sjsemed  randy 
to  trample  them  both  beneath  their  impatient  isil; 
and,  forcing  a  paasage,  with  his  brawny  shcraMif, 
through  the  heaying  maases  of  human  beinga,  wlto 
appeared  to  be  demons  iucamate  keeping  wmx  fai« 


t 


that  through  which  he  hJ?^.!  "^i  *t'*>»««d  than 

own  humble  dw^^    w-  ^^'  '^^  »*^nd  at  hi! 

•rfou,  burthen  nSrSe  b^ri^T^  ""  «»«<" 

*^«careoftheitau,«r  nn«?^K-  '*'*1*^8  ^iawifj 

fortt  and,  going  to  a^'^aKJl"  ?*»".  »»e  we" 

Jn»ad  and  a  bottle  of  wiS?^^*'  vH"?*"*  *  'oaf  o 

home ;  the  shout.  <rf  a"m'addiL'S'"*'^i'.?  ''"t«ned 

a  dMtMce,  even  nowwd  TbfnMu  """'"tade,  froo 

a.  Ticbm  after  victim  aaSkbeniite  "P**'?  •»•  ««- 

«?^otme.    Accustom^  ilT?^''*  "*">''•  of  tho 

fUa  cries  of  the  battle-foM  .n  A"^  ''^''  *»  t^"  min- 

there  was  •omething  iuMn^iw* '!5*"*»" °' «araage 

mthew  fiendish  .houta"ra,>^^\^'"'  *»  hS 

th^oming,  and  to  infom  C  -^^*i  *•*'«  «^«'»*»  of 
Resently  tonjge  aw^and  T^"  *^*"  ^f"*"*  was. 

JawdonehonoMtottnJ"''?'**'"*'"''  that  would 
^ons  to  refi2S,«t^2^  m^^^t  «^"  '  f" 
jw-for  this  was  thegood  wom^n^"""®  "^ople.  Ma- 

while  (Oia  had  baeT  ri^.Sv,^®^  carefully  removS 


JCTSTBBIBS  OF  ▲  CONTENT.  17 

igber  kind  bat  unknown  friends,  begged. 

lev  would  eatisfy  the  enquiries  of  her  mind. 

i^erre  Loubat— her  generous  preserver— then  pro- 

3eded  to  relate  what  had  occurred  during  the  in- 

3rval  of  her  unconsciousness,  and  assured  her  that, 
Ls  long  as  she  desired  it,  his  house,  humble  as  it. 

ras,  would  be  her  home  ;  adding  that  her  father, 

nder  whom  he  had  served  in  the  army,  had  saved 
lis  life  on  the  battle-field ;  and  that,  while  he  had 
arm  to  raise,  it  should  be  outstretched  for  her 
>rotection.  ^ 

<*  Thanks,  most  kind  friends,"    replied  Louise, 

rho,  while  listening  to  the  good  Pierre,  had  covered 
ler  face  with  her  hands ;  the  heaving  of  her  bosom, 
md  the  tears  as  they  fell  upon  her  dress,  mean- 

rhile  evincing  her  deep  emotion ;  **  a  poor  orphan, 
for  truly  such  I  am,  cannot  reward  you,  for  your  • 

Levolence  to  her,  but  may  that  God  who  has  pro* 
Imised  to  be  a  father  to  the  fatherless,  pour  upon 
|yoa  his  choicest  blessings." 

'^SpeiJc  not  of  reward,"  was  the  prompt  and  feel- 
ling  response  of  the  labourer;  ''your  noble  father 
I  has  laia  me  under  eternal  obligations,  and  it  is  but 
i  a  poor  return  to  befriend  his  child.  You  have  only 
to  command  my  services,  to  secure  them  in  any  way 
you  may  require." 

''But  tell  me,"  he  presently  added,  "are  there 
none  of  your  relations  in  the  city,  to  whom  you 
would  like  to  send  a  message  by  me  ?" 

Louise  shuddered  as  this  question  fell  upon  her 
ear;  and, with  a  fresh  gush  of  tears,  replied,  "Alas, 
I  have  not  a  blood  relative  on  earth.  My  parents 
are  both  dead ;  and  I  know  not  another  being,  be- 
sides myself  ,  in  whose  veins  flows  the  blood  of  the 
St.  Aubyns." 

"  But  vour  father  must  have  had  many  friends  in 
Paris,  who  would  be  glad  to  be  of  service  to  you  npw/' 

'*  Mv  father  had  friends,  while  in  prosperity ;  but 
now  that  he  is  dead,  and  by  means  c2  the  guiuotlnei 


■     ■:     I 


18 


XTSTBBIS8  or  ▲  dONYRKT. 


who  would  dan  to  befritndhiidhildP    Toapiilyl 
tham,  would  bo  but  to  throw  myielf  upon  the 
blook,  aud  to  meet  the  same  fate." 

*'  The  Virgin  forbid  1"  ezelaimed  Marie,  deyonfly 
orossing  herself. 

*'  Alas !  poor  young  ladj,"  said  Pierre,  in  tonei 
of  heartfelt  sympathy,  **  how  sad  is  your  oouditionll 
Be  assured,  at  least,  that  neither  Maria  nor  I  willl 
ever  desert  or  betray  you."  I 

A  fresh  burst  of  gnef  wai  the  only  response  that 
Louise  could  make.  I 

At  length,  as  though  a  sudden  thought  had  cro8i*{ 
ed  her  miud  she  asked, 

"  Do  you.  know  M.  De  Montmain,  tl^e  banker  P" 

*'  I  know  where  he  lives,"  replied  ho. 

*'  Tou  will  greatly  oblige  me  then,"  said  Louise, ' 
'*  if  you  will  go  to  his  house,  to-morrow  morning; 
and  say  to  him,  that  the  daughter  of  the  Cotmt  St 
Aubyn  would  be  glad  to  see  him  here,  for  a  few 
minutes,  on  business." 

**I  will  most  cheerfully,"  quickly  returned  Piem, 
as  if  it  did  his  noble  heart  |;ood  to  have  an  opportu* 
nity  of  redeeming  his  promise  to  the  poor  orphan. 

Here  Marie  interposed,  and,  insisting  that  Louise 
should  be  left  to  seek  rest,  madef  arrangements  for 
the  night,  aud,  giving  up  their  own  bed  to  her,  re- 
tired to  a  little  room  adjoining  that  in  which  she 
was  to  sleep. 


CHAFTEB  rv. 

Kind-hearted  banker— Noble  resolve— A  itenerous  propoeal 
—Obligation  returned— A  thankful  heart. 

On  the  following  morning,  at  an  early  hour,  Pient 
called  at  the  residence  of  M.  de  Montmain,  and  hav- 
ing with  some  difficulty,  suooeedod  in  seeing  the 


msxBBm  Of  A  coxmn. 


U 


'  r! 


>ADktr,  informtd  bim  that  a  yoang  ladj  withad  to 
riM  bim.  on  busiueH,  at  Ko.  08,  Bue  de  Naotas,  and 
bbat  if  06  would  go  with  him,  or  ta?  when  it  would 
lait  his  ooiiTeuience  to  make  the  call|  he  would  ahuw 
dm  the  way. 

**  But  my  good  friend,"  replied  the  banker,  **yoa 

[have  not  told  me  her  name ;   and  these,  you  are 

laware,  are  not  tiroes  for  a  man  iu  my  situation  to  be 

calliug  on  nameless  damsels,  simply  because  they  ex« 

press  a  desire  to  see  him.     Who  is  this  unknown 

llady  r 

*^The  daughter  of  (General  St.  Aubyn,  who  was 
guillotined  yesterday/'  answered  Pierre,  bowing  re* 
gpectfuUy,  and  brushing  away  a  tear  from  his  eye. 

*^  The  daughter  of  General  St.  Aubyn,  who  was 
guillotined  yesterday !"  slowly  repeated  M.  de  Mont- 
main,  lookiuif  fixedly  upon  Pierre.  *'  Impossible  1" 
added  he,  **  How  came  she  there  P" 

**  I  carried  her  there  on  my  shoulder,  from  near 
the  scaffold  on  which  she  had  seen  her  noble  father 
|)erish,*'  answered  Pierre ;  **  and  I  intend  to  protect 
her  with  my  own  life,  now  that  she  it  an  orphan, 
without  home,  and  without  friends."  As  he  said 
this,  the  good  soldier  drew  himself  up  to  his  full 
height,  and  looked  as  though  he  saw  before  him  some 
one  who  had  intentions  of  injury  towards  his  young 
protegee. 

The  banker  saw  the  noble  bearing  of  the  Teteran, 
and,  reading  the  devotion  to  her  interests  whidi  he 
had  unconsciously  betrayed,  took  him  warmly  by 
the  hand,  exclaiming, 

"Noble*hearted  man,  the  great  Gk>d  will  bless  you 
for  this  kindness  to  the  orphan.  Gome,  show  the 
way  to  your  house;     I  will  follow  you  anywhere.*' 

Adyanoing  hastilv  along  the  less-frequented 
streets;  for  no  one,  who  had  anything  at  stake,  loved^ 
in  those  troublous  days,  to  linger  by  the  way,  or  to 
mingle  with  the  crowd  ;  the  banker  and  the  old  sol- 
dier soon  reached  the  dwelling  c^  the  latter,  and 


r  I 


>^:.-  v.; ,  {(■• 


{      '^"i     l^vJ 


20 


XYSTBBIBS  OF  ▲  OOmrXNS. 


were  leated  by  the  bed  of  Loniie,  who  was  too  f  eebl 
to  arise. 

M.  de  Montmain    immediately  recognised 
daughter  of  the  deceased  General,  whose  feat 
she  l>ore  very  distinctly,  and  whom,  indeed,  he  hail 
once  seen  at  her  fatiier's;  and,  addressing?  her  ia 
tones  full  of  sympathy  and  kindness,  asked  if  he| 
could  in  any  way  serve  the  child  of  his  old  friend. 

*<  I  am  an  orphan,  and  destitute"— replied  Louise, 
her  utterance  almost  choked  with  emotion — **  and 
haying  no  home  to  which  I  can  safely  repair,  while 
I  am  willing  to  become  a  burden  to  these  kind-heart* 
ed  people,  who  have  saved  my  life,  and  perhaps,  at 
least,  my  honour,  I  have  sent  for  you,  M.  de  Mont* 
main,  to  Imow  if  my  father,  at  the  time  of  his  death, 
had  any  money  in  jour  hands,  and  if  in  any  way 
I  can,  as  his  sole  survivor,  obtain  that  money,  or  any 
portion  of  it?" 

**  There  are  in  my  hands,  belonging  to  the  estate 
of  your  late  father,  18,000  francs ;"  replied  the  bank- 
er— '*  but  you  are  aware,  Mademoiselle,  that,  in  times 
like  these,  it  is  impoasible  to  foresee  what  may  hap« 
pen,  as  well  as  to  take  any  legal  steps,  to  secure  to 
you  the  inheritance  ;  besides,  if  it  were  known  to  the 
government  that  this  amount  were  now  standing  on 
my  books  to  the  credit  of  General  St.  Aubyn,it 
would  be  seized  upon  immediately,  and  oonfiscated 
to  the  purposes  of  the  State.  In  this  dilemma,  it  is 
very  difficult  to  determine  what  is  best  to  be  done." 

Having  said  this,  the  banker  sat  for  tome  time  in 
deep  thought ;  at  length  raising  his  eyes  from  the 
floor,  upon  which  they  had  been  intently  fixed,  he 
said, 

'*  I  will  tell  you  what  I  will  do.  Mademoiselle  Loa* 
ise;  I  am  under  obligations  to  your  ezoelient  father 
for  advances  made  me  in  my  business,  when  I  grf  :^t 
Ij  needed  them.  Ttiis  money  is  rightfully  yours,  in* 
dependent  of  all  legal  proceedings,  which  are  now 
of  course  entirely  out  of  the  question :  bat  eighteen 


I 


inrSTBBIBB  OV  A  OOKVENT.  2} 

ionsand  francs  is  a  large  sum  of  monay,  and  if  it 
rere  discovered,  after  I  had  paid  it  oyer  to  you,  that 
was  in  my  possession  subsequent  to  the  General's, 
[eath,  the  Goyernmentmight  confiscate  that  amount 
ff  my  funds,  and  hold  me  responsible  for  the  entire 
[am.  But  you  need  money,  and  must  haye  it ;  I 
/ill,  therefore,  in  the  course  of  two  hours  fromihis 
lime,  pay  you  the  sum  of  ten  thousand  francos,  and 
ke  your  receipt  for  that  amount,  together  with  a 
md  of  indemnity  against  any  loss  that  I  muy  sus* 
UQ  by  the  act,  payable  out  of  the  estate ;  should 
kheae  troublous  times  oyer  pass  away,  and  men's 
jht  be  once  more  respected  and  established.  The 
smaiader  to  be  left  in  my  hands,  subject  to  the  es« 
iblishment,  at  some  future  time,  of  your  claims,  as 
leiress  of  your  father." 

^  Tou  have  my  thanks,  M.  de  Montmain,  for  this 
Igenerous  offer,"  said  Louise,  in  tones  which  at  once 
lemced  her  surprise  at  the  generosity  of  the  banker, 
and  the  relief  which  it  afforded  to  her  mind.  '^  I 
will  most  cheerfully  sign  any  writing  you  may  re- 
quire, and  shall  consider  myself  under  obligations 
I  to  one  who  has  manifested  so  much  honesty  and  true 
Idndness  of  heart." 

The  banker  hastenedhome,  and,  returning  in  about 
an  hour,  placed  in  Louise's  hands  the  sum  of  ten 
thousand  francs  in  gold,  taking  the  necessary  papers 
to  secure  himself  from  loss,  as  far,  at  least,  as  possi* 
ble,  under  the  circumstances ;  and,  assuring  her  of 
his  readiness  at  all  times  to  serye  her,  for  the 
sake  of  her  father,  he  bade  her  adieu,  and  left  the 
house. 

Louise  at  once  called  the  good  Pierre  to  her,  and, 
oouoting  into  his  hand,  in  spite  of  all  his  remon- 
strances, fiye  hundred  francs,  desired  him  to  consi- 
der them  as  his  own,  and  to  take  the  remainder  in  to 
his  safe  keeping,  for  her  use.  It  is  unnecessary  to 
add  that  the  trust  was  never  betrayed. 


r'  ^H 


. ..  *  J  K 


pi 

7\Ti 

'*." 

'■  1  '■ 

rV. 

j"' ' 

1 

f  ■ 

k 

f.y 

'.'4  ' 


a 


1CT6TEBIE8  09  A  COM  V JiilUT* 


,?■■   ; 
I,   . 


,  CHAFTEB  V. 

A  eomfortable  retreat— Betribntion— The  peasant  girPs  tie 
tiin— blood  for  blood— 1  be  chie&reoeive  their  merited 
doont-*Tbe  orphan's  curse. 

EiOBTEEN  months  rolled  away,  and  still  found  Lou* 
ise  an  inmate  of  the  same  family  which  had  first 
afforded  her  protection.  They  lived  not  in  the  sane 
house,  however ;  for  she  had  insisted  upon  their 
taking  one  somewhat  larger  and  more  comfortable, 
at  her  expense,  while  it  was  at  the  same  time  less 
exposed  to  the  prying  eye  of  curiosity,  and  her 
safety  was,  therefore,  rendered  the  greater.  The 
good  Marie  ministered  to  all  her  wants,  and  submit- 
ted to  all  her  caprices;  while  Pierre  daily  brought 
her  the  news  from  the  city. 

Meanwhile,  the  first  of  that  *^  Infernal  TriumTi- 
rate**  which  had  condemned  her  father  to.death  b; 
the  giullotine,  and  had  deluged  France  With  the 
blood  of  her  citizens,  had  fallen  beneath  the  knife  of 
the  peasant  girl,  who  putting  aside  the  weakness 
of  her  sex,  and  clothing  herself  with  enthusiastic  de« 
Totion  to  the  interests  of  her  natiTC  land,  bared  her 
arm  in  the  name  of  Freedom,  and  inspired  with  a 
heaven-bom  heroism,  teacked  the  monster  Marat  to 
his  lair,  and  there  stuck  that  knife  to  the  heart  of  him 
whom  she  believed  to  be  the  foremost  in  the  butoh« 
ery  of  her  countrymen,  and  whose  death  would,  she 
thought,  give  birth  to  the  liberties  of  France. 

Next  fell  Danton— a  victim  to  the  jealousy  and  to 
the  wiles  of  the  unprincipled  Bobespierre— but  while 
he  met  the  fate  which  his  atrocities  sorichl^  merited, 
his  dying  prediction  was  fully  verified,  for,  in  falling, 
he  dragged  with  him  the  arch-murderer,  Bobei^ 
Pierre,  from  the  guilty  teal  of  power,  wluch  they 
bad  occupied  together. 


•T  '^^ 


imXSBZSS  07  A  CONVENT. 


28 


Ou  the  norniofc  of  the  29th  of  July,  1794,  at  day- 
)reak,  the  streets  of  Parts  were  filled  to  repletion 
rith  masses  of  human  beings,  all  ooiiTergiug  to  one 
>iut  of  general  attraction.  The  populace  of  this 
^reat  and  wicked  city,  their  hands  and  srarmeuti 
reeking  with  the  gore  of  the  thousands  whom  they 
iad  slain  in  the  fever  of  popular  excitement,  had 
>wn  weary  of  the  signt  of  blood,  and  yet  they 
rere  thronging  to  witness  another  execution.  On* 
rard  they  press,  one  cry  sounding  above  all  others 
-**Dowu  with  the  tyrant^down  with  Robespierre. 
To  the  guillotine  with  him  !**  What,  Robespierre ! 
lAy,  that  name,  at  meutioo  of  which,  as  it  passed 
Ifrom  lip  to  lip,  hundreds  of  thousands,  nay,  all 
iFrance,  had  trembled  :— that  name,  whose  magic 
power  had  led  the  maddened  multitude  to  deeds  of 
hrioleoce,  and  to  words  of  blasphemy  which  astonish- 
ed  the  world-— that  name,  which  had  swept,  sirocco* 
Hke,  over  the  land,  blaspheming  and  blighting— that 
name,  once  so  powerful,  now  so  powerless—  that 
name,  once  so  dreaded,  now  so  contemned.  How 
I  are  the  mighty  fallen !    Robespierre  is  about  to  ez* 

Eiate  his  crimes,  upon  that  very  scaffold  to  which  he 
ad  sentenced  so  many  victims.  The  guillotine 
I  stands  on  the  verv  spot  where  the  unhappy  Lonie 
XYL  and  his  noble  consort,  Marie  Antoinette  had 
suffered.  It  stands  in  the  Place  de  la  Revolution. 
Aioond  it  ^fathered  the  dense  crowd,  waiting  imfm- 
tisntly  to  witness  the  death  of  him  who  had  promis- 
ed them  riches,  and  fields  of  grain,  but  who  had, 
instead,  fed  them  npon  the  blood  of  their  fathers, 
and  husbands,  and  brothers.  Now  the  crowd  dis- 
ports to  the  right  and  left ;  and,  amid  cursings,  and 
execrations,  and  shouts  of  exultation,  the  band  of 
eonspirators,  against  the  liberties  of  France,  slowly 
adTanqil|,  There  are  Henriot,  and  Couthon,  and  St. 
Ja8t,ao#®iimaa,andCk>ffinal,  and  Simon,  andothersi 
bat  other  oonspieuons  among  them  all  is  Robes* 
perre— the  master-spirit,  and  aioh-oonspiraiori  tha 


■■'t  W! 


..     il 


>!■::!< 


!*r 


24 


MIBTJEUIB  OV  ▲  OOITTBNT* 


lit.. 


tyrant;  the  bloodhound,  of  the  Beyolutioii. 
bodies  of  Henriot,  of  Couthon,  and  of  Bobespii 
are  moltilated — ^mangled  in  the  bloody  scene  con 

S lent  upon  their  seizure,  the  night  before.  Th< 
1  stand  around  the  fearful  instrument  of  deal 
each  awaiting  his  turn.  One  by  one  they  ascem 
the  platform;  aboTC  which  the  glittering  blade  i 
suspended,  and  each  is  beheaded;  a  wild  shout o 
joj  goes  up  from  the  congregated  thousands  win 
witness  this  last  offering  to  liberty.  At  last  oomai 
the  tyrant's  turn,  and,  as  he  mounts  the  scaffold,  t 
yet  wilder  shout  ascends  from  the  multitude,  who 
are  frantic  with  exultation.  There  he  stands,  the 
last  of  the  dreaded  enemies  of  human  rights !  Se« 
the  blood  Cozing  from  the  bandage  that  holds  wp  lui 
fractured  jaw;  it  runs  down  upon  his  clothing; 
^he  executioner  snatches  the  bandage  from  his  he^d; 
the  broken  Jaw  falls  upon  his  breast ;  and  one  yell 
of  terrible  agony  is  wrung  from  his  stoical  son), 
which  had  borne  the  anguish  of  the  jirevious  night, 
without  a  groan.  But,  what  cry  is  that  wmch 
pierces  the  ear,  whose  tones,  sounding  even  ahove 
the  yell  of  mortal  pain  which  filled  CTerr  heart  with 
horror,  are  heard  ringing  out  shrill  and  clear  upon 
the  air  F  It  was  the  yoice  of  a  woman — a  yoimg 
and  beautiful  woman^whose  dress  of  deepest  mouxn* 
iug,  and  whose  pale  face,  showed  that  she  has  been  a 
sufferer  from  the  tyrant's  cruelties.  Hark  to  the 
▼oice !  '*  Murderer  of  my  father,  your  agony  JSlls 
me  with  joy ;  descend  to  hell,  covered  with  the  cor- 
ses of  the  orphan !  aye,  coTered  with  the  curses  of  ill 
the  orphans  and  widows  you  haye  made^  France  :'* 
See,  he  shuts  his  eyes,  he  would  fain  stop  his  ears! 
he  would  gladly  hush  his  conscience,  but  he  cannot; 
the  iron  has  pierced  his  soul— *'  there  ia  a  Ood"  The 
retributions  of  that  hour  declare  it.  Bobespiene 
feels  it ;  atid,  with  remorse  gnawing  at  his  yitals,  be 
bows  his  head  upon  theUodc,  and  his  doomed  sforit 
into  the  awful  presence  of  JehoTah :  eznltsst 


lETillBUS  OV  ▲  OOMTBNT. 


it 


•boats  prooUim  the  joy  of  Fraaoa,  that  ft  tynmt  hfts 
been  remoyed  from  &e  f aoe  of  the  eftrth ;  while  the 
whole  ecene  deolered  the  preeenoe  of  en  ftyenging 
Deity. 

The  execution  over,  the  crowd  disperted;  and 
Louise  St.  Aubjn,  leaning  heaTily  upon  the  arm  of 
Pierre,  the  old  Teterau,  walked  ilowly  homeward. 
It  was  she  who,  havinfr  heard  what  was  to  transpire 
that  day.  had  clothed  herself  in  mourning,  and, 
itanding  beneath  the  guillotine,  had  cursed  Bobee- 
pierre,  uie  murderer  of  her  father. 


OHAFTEB  VI. 

LoqIm  lonts  to  lesTS  France— Looking  towards  Amtiiea— 
Prmiu  upon  Pionre  and  Marie  to  accompany  her— Ar- 
ri?alin  the  new  Bepublio— Ohuroh  of  the  Jesoits— In- 
terriew  wMi  Father  Jubert. 

FaiNOB  was  hateful  to  Louise,  since  the  death  of 
her  father,  and  the  atrocities  which  she  had  witnes- 
sed, and  of  which  she  had  heard ;  and  she  longed  to 
leaye  its  shores.  She  had  heard  much  of  the  young 
Bepublic  across  the  broad  Atlantic,  and  determined 
to  go  thither,  that  she'might  no  longer  be  surround* 
.«  ed  by  those  whom  she  regarded  as  lawless  murder* 
ers,  against  whom  she  had  in  secret  vowed  eternal 
hatoed.  Indeed,  her  heart  was  filled  with  bitterness 
towards  her  whole  race,  save  the  good  Pierre,  the 
kind  Marie,  and  the  generous  banker,  M.  de  Mont- 
main  ;  the  only  beings,  in  all  the  world,  towards 
whom  she  f ^It  one  emotion  of  regard  or  eeteem. 

On  the  morning  succeeding  the  tragical  eyents 

narrated  in  the  mt  chapter,  Louise  called  Pierre 

and  his  wife  into  her  room,  after  breakfast,  and, 

bidding  them  be  seated^he  said  to  them : 

^ My  friends,  I  hate  Prance;  I  wish  to  leaye  it, 

224  0 


I.- 


^     «       !'■ 


'■    •«    ■    ■■         .  It 


(  -',    ir.l 


!l' 


yXBfSMBSMB  Of  A  OOWUIT* 

mi^  gg^  an  Mylom  in  the  new  home  of  the  lonow- 
•trieken,  the  United  States.  I  am  unwiUing  to  lean 
you  behind ;  will  yon  go  with  me  P" 

<«Bat  Mademoiielle/'  replied  Pierre,  who  wai 
muoh  Mtonished  at  this  intelligence—*'  we  hayenot 
the  means ;  and,  besides,  we  should  starye,  when  we 
got  there,  without  friends,  and  without  business." 

**  As  to  the  means  of  getting  to  America**— re- 
sponded Louise—"  leaye  that  to  me ;  I  will  proyide 
tnem.  It  is  as  little  as  I  can  do  in  return  for  the 
kindness  which  you  haye  manifested  to  me,  during 
the  many  months  th&t  I  haye  spent  under  your  hos- 
pitable roof.  I  will  pay  your  passage  across  the 
ocean ;  and,  when  we  reach  that  friendly  shore,  we 
will  take  a  house,  and  liye  toffether  as  we  do  here. 
Our  good  Pierre  can  find  someUiing  to  do ;  tou,  Ma- 
rie, and  I,  can  keep  house,  and  thus  we  wiU  do  yny 
well.  I  have  seven  thousand  francs  left ;  and,  while 
these  last,  you  shall  not  want.  Gome,  let  us  IbSTe 
this  horrible  country,  and  go  at  once  where  at  least 
our  liyes  will  be  safe,  and  we  can  earn  our  daily 
bread  in  peace.    What  say  you,  my  friends  P'* 

^*  Ah  t  it  will  be  hard  to  leave  Paris,  with  all  het 
faults,*'  answered  Pierre :  '*  but  yet,  I  feel  well  as- 
sured, from  what  I  have  heard  about  that  far  off 
country,  that  Mademoiselle  Ziouise  advises  for  the 
best.  We  love  her,"— continued  he,  addressing  him- 
self to  his  wife—**  and  we  will  go  with  her ;  we  can 
soon  earn  enough,  by  our  labour,  to  repay  what  she 
may  advance  for  our  expenses.  Gome,  Marie,  say 
yes,  and  we  will  go  with  her.'* 

**  Well,  Pierre,  DC  it  so,  then.  We  have  nothing 
to  keep  us  here,  save  our  love  for  la  belle  France, 
and  who  knows  but  we  may  grow  rich  in  America, 
which  we  assuredly  cannot  do  here.'* 

**  By  the  way,"  said  Pierre,  **  it  Just  occurs  to  me, 
at  this  moment,  that  the  captain  of  the  new  brig, 
the  Jean  Maurioe,  told  me,  the  other  day,  that  be 
would  start  from  Havre  for  New  York,  soma  time 


next  week.    . 
wiU  see  the 

charge  to  take 
Suffice  it  td 
made  to  the 
nions;  their 
assumed  name 
conversation  1 
Maurice  was 
her  way  to  th( 
In  due  time 
Hon;  and, in 
request  of  Lo 
of  the  city,  w 
mshed;andh 
had  so  singul 
in  the  enjoyn 
found  profita^ 
with  househt 
time  in  embr< 
before  she  lei 
handsome  rei 
who  had  beei 
Some  wee 
Louise  enten 
Jemitiy  at  N 
sought  absol 
He  inquired 
sympatny  f  o 
telling  her  b 
her  a  pastox 
of  about  thi 
commandiuj 
refugee  f roi 
ble  family; 
It  was  no 
the  dwellin 
ping  at  the 
.  bor,  when 


1CTBTBBZB8  UF  ▲  OOMVJUWlV 


27 


next  week.  If  you  say  lo.  Mademoiselle  Louise,  I 
will  see  the  captain,  and  aroertain  what  he  will 
diarge  to  tiJce  us  all  to  that  place." 

Suffice  it  to  sav  that  the  arrangements  were  all 
made  to  the  satisfaction  of  Louise  and  her  compa- 
nions ;  their  passports  obtained,  hers  being  in  aa 
assumed  name  ;  and  on  the  Thursday  following  the 
conversation  that  has  just  been  related,  the  Jean 
Maurice  was  breasting  the  waves  of  the  ocean,  on 
her  way  to  the  new  world. 

In  due  time  the  brig  arriyed  at  its  port  of  destina* 
tion ;  and,  in  a  few  days,  Pierre  had  taken,  at  the 
request  of  Louise,  a  nice  little  house  in  the  suburbs 
of  the  city,  which  was  plainly  but  comfortably  fur- 
nished ;  and  here  the  three  friends^  whom  misfortune 
had  so  singularly  bound  together  in  stronff  ties,  liyed 
in  the  enjoyment  of  quiet  and  repose.  Aerre  soon 
found  profitable  emi>loyment ;  Marie  busied  herself 
with  household  a£Fairs ;  while  Louise  employed  her 
time  in  embroidery ^  lessons  in  which  she  nad  taken 
before  she  left  Pans,  and  fon  xzhiah  she  received  a 
handsome  remuneration  from  a  French  merchant, 
who  had  been  for  some  time  established  in  business. 

Some  weeks  rolled  away,  when,  one  morning, 
Louise  entered  the  confessional  in  the  church  of  the 
Jesuittf  at  New  York  ;  and,  after  a  full  confession, 
sought  absolution  from  the  priest  who  was  present. 
He  inquired  who  she  was,  and,  manifesting  great 
sympatny  for  her  sorrows,  asked  for  her  address ;' 
telling  her  he  would  call,  in  a  few  days,  and  pay 
lier  a  pastoral  visit.  This  priest  was  a  young  man, 
of  about  thirty  years  of  age,  of  handsome  features, 
commanding  figure,  polishea  manners,  and  was  a 
refugee  from  France,  neing  a  descendant  from  a  no- 
ble family;  his  name,  Jubert. 

It  was  not  long  before  Father  Jubert  stood  before 


via- 


** 


28 


ICTBTSBIBS  OF  ▲  CONTENT* 


mantled  upon  the  cheek  of  Louise,  as  she  looked  at 
the  handsome  priest;  and,  Jesuit  as  he  was,  and  ac- 
customed to  the  maintenance  of  an  iron  control  over 
himself,  the  tell-tale  blood  which  mounted  to  his 
face,  told  that  an  impression  had  been  made  upon 
Ids  heart  which  would  be  exceedingly  dangerous  to 
the  peace  of  both. 

The  interview  was  a  long  one ;  for  Father  Jubert 
insisted  upon  haying,  from  the  lips  of  Louise  a  full 
account  of  her  past  history ;  and,  during  its  redtal, 
manifested  the  deepest  interest  in  its  detuls. 

At  length,  the  narratiye  was  completed ;  and  the 
priest  had  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  Louise  St. 
Aubyn  possessed  rare  qualifications  for  membership 
in  the  order  of  Jesuits,  and  that  if  she  could  but  be 
persuaded  to  join  that  order,  it  would  be  i^  once  a 
most  valuable  acquisition,  while  it  woidd  render 
more  easy  of  accomplishment,  certain  intentions  of 
his  own,  which  had  been  formed  in  his  mind,  while, 
with  flushed  cheek  and  fire-flashing  eye,  wie  had 
told  her  thrilling  story. 

He,  therefore,  related  to  her,  at  her  request,  his 
own  history,  taking  care  to  expatiate  upon  the  hap- 
py retreat  from  worldy  anxiety,  which  he  had  found 
in  the  bosom  of  the  church,  and  in  association  with 
the  order  of  which  he  was  a  member.  His  impas- 
sioned  eloquence,  while  he  enlarged  upon  this  topic, 
made  a  deep  impression  upon  the  mind  of  Louise; 
already  predisposed,  by  misanthrophic  feeling,  to 
abandon  the  world,  and  shut  herself  out  from  its  tu- 
mult and  its  sorrows;  and  the  wily  Jesuit,  flnding 
that  he  had  succeeded  beyond  his  expectations, 
thought  it  best  not  to  push  the  matter,  at  that  time, 
any  further,  but  to  leave  the  impression  to  deepen 
itself,  and  work  its  own  way. 

Bising  gracefully  from  his  chair,  and  offering  his 
services  to  Louise,  in  the  most  delicate  manner  ima- 
ginable, be  promised  to  visit  her  again;  and  took 

his  iMve,  with  aU  the  refined  poUtMieis  of  theao-* 
complished  Renohman. 


1CY8TBBZB6  OV  ▲  002II7XNT. 


.29 


CHAPTEB  Vn. 

Lottiae's  reflections  on  the  interview— Its  effect  on  Loaiae^ 
Anxiety  of  Pierre  and  Marie— The  heart's  oonsolatioiis 
—The  wily  Jesuit. 

This  interview  with  father  Jubert  left  the  mind  of 
Louise  in  a  tumult  of  emotion,  such  as  only  a  being 
of  her  peculiar  mould  it  capable  of.  Before  the  dis- 
astrous event  occurred,  which  made  her  an  orphan, 
she  had  had  but  little  intercourse  with  those  of  tiie 
opposite  sex ;  and  then  only  when,  on  State  occa- 
sions, she  had  yisited  Paris,  in  company  with  her 
father;  and  although  her  imagination  had  often 
been  inflamed  by  the  perusal  of  romances,  which  she 
found  in  the  library  of  the  chateau,  and  which  she 
had  devoured  with  great  avidity,  sne  had  never  be« 
fore  met  with  any  one  who  had  inspired  her  with  the 
feelings  which  she  experienced  in  the  interview  with 
the  young,  the  handsome,  and  the  polished,  French 
priest.  In  short,  she  had  fallen  desperately  in  love 
with  him ;  and  her  quick  woman's  wit  had  made  the 
disooverv  that  the  passion  was  a  reciprocal  one. 
Had  he  been  of  low  origin  in  his  native  land,  she 
would  have  spumed  the  idea ;  but,  as  he  had  inform- 
ed her  that  he  was  a  son  of  the  Oount  Jubert,  than 
whose  there  was  no  better  blood  in  France,  her  ro- 
mantic disposition  seized  eagerly  upon  the  adven- 
tures ;  and  her  fondness  for  excitement  of  eTery 
kind,  that  might  relieve  the  tedious  monotony  of 
her  everv-day  life,  found  nutriment  upon  which  to 
feast  itself,  in  the  flame  which  tho  Father  Jab«rt 
had  inspired  in  her  bosom. 

**  Bat  he  is  a  priest,'*  said  she  to  herself,  at  she 
thought  of  the  circumstances  whidh  had  tnmspixed 
in  the  interview ;  and  thi8»  instead  of  shocking  her 


•h 


it-  ■. '  ' 


80 


inrSTBBIBS  OF  ▲  comrsNT. 


by  the  new  phase  in  which  it  presented  the  rabjeet 
to  her  mind,  only  served  to  make  the  affair  more  ro- 
mantio,  and  theraore,  the  more  pleasurable  to  her 
ezdted  fancy. 

**  Tet  he  loves  me,  I  know ;"  she  added,  mentally. 
**  Did  not  his  voice  falter,  aod  his  cheek  redden,  as 
he  spoke  to  me  P  aud,  when  he  bade  me  good  bye, 
how  nis  hand  trembled,  as  he  pressed  mine !  He 
loves  me,  I  am  sure  of  it.  What  a  pity  he  is  a  priest! 
How  handsome  he  is !  How  agreeable !"  And  thus 
she  sat  reasoning  and  communing  with  her  owu 
thoughts,  until  Marie  announced  that  dinner  was 
on  the  table. 

''  Mademoiselle  does  not  eat  to-day,"  said  Pierre, 
with  some  anxiety,  as  he  observed  that  Louise 
scarcely  touched  the  food  on  her  plate,  and  seemed 
greatly  abstracted  during  the  silent  meal,  "  I  hope 
you  are  not  unwell." 

'*  I  am  quite  well,"  replied  Louise,  aroused,  for  the 
moment,  nom  her  reverie—"  I  was  only  thinking  of 
the  past,  my  good  PieiTe,  and  that  made  me  sad." 

**  Ah !  do  not  let  your  thoughts  go  back  to  the 
sorrowful  days  that  are  past.  Mademoiselle  Louise ;" 
—said  Marie,  with  a  tear  in  her  eye — **  it  will  injure 
your  health ;  think  only  of  that  happy  time  we  now 
see,  and  of  the  bright  future." 

But  Louise  heard  not  what  was  said  by  the  kind* 
hearted  Marie ;  she  was  thinking  of  the  handsome 
priest,  and  of  the  pleasant  tones  of  his  voice,  which 
seemed  still  to  vibrate  as  sweet  music  upon  her  ear. 

Her  simple  friends  exchanged  looks  of  sympathy, 
little  dreaming  of  what  was  passing  in  the  mind  of 
Louise ;  and,  her  plain  meal  being  finished,  she  re- 
tired to  her  own  room,  and  spent  the  i^ttemoon,  not 
as  nsual  over  her  embroidenng  frame,  but  in  the 
reveries  of  a  passionate  imagination^  and  in  building 
air-caitles  for  the  fature.  She  devised  a  thomand 
schemes  by  means  of  which  she  thought,  for  a  mo- 
ment, the  obstacles  in  the  way  of  her  onion  with  IV 


MTSTBBIE8  07  A  CONVENT. 


31 


ther  Jubert  mig^ht  be  remoTed ;  and  as  insunnonnt- 
able  diffioalties  would  throw  themselves  around  eaoh 
of  these,  as  if  in  mockery  of  her  anxiety  on  the  sub- 
ject, others  would  arise,  to  be  in  turn  destroyed  by 
some  impossibility  that  would  sugj^est  itself.  Thns 
was  passed  the  afternoon  and  evening  of  that  event- 
ful day;  and,  at  last,  overcome  with  fatigue,  oonsa- 
quent  upon  the  strength  of  her  emotions,  and  the 
unwonted  mental  exercise,  she  fell  asleep,  and 
dreamed  of  the  handsome  young  priest. 

Father  Jubert,  meanwhile,  had  sat  himself  down 
in  his  comfortable  room,  and,  after  recalling  to  n^ind 
the  incidents  that  had  been  relatejl  to  him  by  Louise 
in  their  interview,  and  reflecting  upon  the  traits  of 
character  which  she  had  developed  to  his  keen  ob- 
servation, as  well  as  the  beauty  of  her  face  and  per- 
son, which  had  indeed  made  a  most  lively  impression 
npon  his  heart,  as  she  had  supposed';  taxed  his  in- 
ventive powers  to  devise  a  plan  by  means  of  which 
she  might  be  induced  to  enter  the  order,  and  he  ac* 
complish  his  private  purposes.  Having  succeeded 
in  this,  to  his  own  satisfaction,  and  determined  that 
no  time  should  be  lost  in  carrying  his  plan  into  ef- 
fect, he  turned  to  his  writing-table,  and  addressed 
to  the  superior  of  the  order  in  Bome,  a  letter,  con- 
taining some  gisneral  information,  and  a  summary 
of  the  events  which  had  transpired  in  the  last  month, 
not  omitting  to  say  enough,  in  reference  to  Louise, 
to  attract  the  attention  of  the  superior  to  her  oassL 
and  to  evince  with  what  avidity  the  writer  seized 
upon  every  circumstance  which  might  promote  the 
interests  of  the  order. 


M     •  . 


sa 


1R8IEBIBB  OT  A  COIIVJUI'f< 


m 


CHAPTER  Vin. 

The  lorer's  dream— The  confessional— Iti  effects  on  Lonlie 
—Her  determination  to  enter  the  Oonyent  of  Si  Mary's 
—Sorrow  ofherfHends— Enters  the  Conyent,  under  the 
appellation  of  Sister  Frances— Father  Juhert's  wily 
schemes. 

Ov  awakening,  the  next  morning,  Lonise  found  her- 
self, as  it  were,  in  a  new  world ; — a  world  containing 
but  two  inhabitants,  the  priest  of  whom  she  had 
dreamed,  and  herself.  She  arose,  and  dressed  herself 
with  more  than  her  usual  care :  and,  after  break- 
fast, telling  Marie  that  she  was  going  to  confession, 
repaired  to  the  church  which  she  had  visited  a  week 
before ;  and  there,  to  her  great  joy,  she  found  Father 
Jubert  in  his  seat,  ready  to  listen  to  her.  With  pal- 
pitating heart,  she  entered  the  confessional,  and  her 
tremulous  voice  betrayed  the  emotion  of  her  soul. 
The  priest  heard  her  through,  and  then  administered 
consolation  to  her ;  but  what  was  said,  or  what  was 
done,  in  that  hour,  the  writer  is  not  prepared  to  say. 
Let  it  suffice  that  Louise  left  the  church,  with  a  smile 
upon  her  countenance,  which  bespoke  the  joy  of  her 
heart,  and,  in  the  course  of  a  few  days,  astonished 
the  good  Pierre  and  his  wife,  by  informing  them  that 
she  had  made  up  her  mind  to  enter  the  convent  of 
St.  Mary's,  in  Nbw  York ;  and  that  she  should  give 
to  them  one  half  of  the  remaining  money  which  she 
had  brought  from  France,  to  be  their  own :  so  that 
they  might  not  suffer  from  the  step  she  was  about  to 
take. 

Marie,  who  loved  Louise,  burst  into  tears,  and 
wmngher  hands  in  the  bitterness  of  her  sorrow,  de- 
daring  that  she  should  die  without  the  presence  of 
her  good  mistress,  for  so  she  termed  her ;  and  Pierre 
stood  mate  and  motionless,  as  if  he  were  striving  to 


placing  hersel 

association  witl 

acts  of  devotio'' 

gured  them  thi 

not  prevent  h 

from  affording 

they  require  it 

Thus  assure< 

sented  to  their 

the  remainder 

itantly  red  wii 

Some  ten  dj 

preparations  i 

time  freauent 

nuns  of  the  coi 

ter  interesting 

liim  up  in  a  sn 

of  themonev 

in  token  of  n< 

in  which  she  I 

Before  entei 

reotionofFatl 

her  remaining 

while  living,  1 

and,  proourix] 

France,  and  i 

aninstrumenl 

whatever  mig 

absolutely  to 

of  the  other  I 

tionthatit  d 

vent  in  whidi 

In  due  timi 

passed  her  n< 


KTSSBBZES  07  A  001I7EKT* 


83 


comprehend  what  had  beeniaidto  him*  Mean- 
while,  Lonise  toothed  them,  by  telling  them  that  she 
had  no  longer  anything  to  live  for  in  this  world,  that 
her  ntaation  was  a  peculiarly  dietreseing  one,  and 
that  her  happinees  would  be  greatly  promoted  by 
placing  herself  under  the  protection  of  the  nuns,  in 
association  with  whom  she  could  spend  her  days  in 
acts  of  deyotion  and  works  of  piety.  She  also  as- 
gured  them  that  her  entrance  into  the  convent  would 
not  prevent  her  from  seeing  them  frequently,  and 
from  affording  them  assistance,  at  any  tune,  should 
th^  require  it. 

Thus  assured,  her  kind  friends  reluctantly  con- 
sented to  their  separation  from  Louise ;  and,  during 
the  remainder  of  that  day,  Marie's  eyes  were  con- 
stantly red  with  weeping. 

Some  ten  days  were  spent  bv  Louise  in  making 
preparations  for  her  conyentual  life,  during  which 
time  frequent  visits  were  paid  to  the  family  by  the 
nans  of  the  convent,  and  by  Father  Jubert;  the  lat- 
ter interesting  himself  for  Pierre  so  much  as  to  set 
him  up  in  a  small  but  lucrative  business,  by  means 
of  the  money  which  Louise  had  presented  to  him, 
in  token  of  her  friendship,  and  or  the  appreciation 
in  which  she  held  his  past  kindness  and  naelitv. 

Before  entering  the  convent,  Louise,  under  the  di- 
rection of  Father  Jubert,  made  a  safe  investment  of 
her  remaining  money,  subject  to  her  own  order 
while  li?ing,  reversionary  to  the  order  at  her  death ; 
and,  procuring  the  services  of  an  agent  to  visit 
France,  and  attend  to  her  interests  there,  executed 
an  instrument  in  writing,  donating  the  one  half  of 
whatever  might  be  realized  from  her  father's  estate, 
ahsolutely  to  the  Jesuits,  and  retaining  tiie  control 
of  the  other  half  in  her  own  hands,  wiUi  an  obliga- 
tion that  it  should  be  given  ultimately  to  the  con- 
vent in  which  she  shomd  end  her  days. 

In  due  time,  she  entered  the  convent,  and,  having 
passed  her  novitiate  satisfactorily,  became  a  nun. 


!i':t-^;:  ;■• 


i.     y    ;;, 


34 


1CT8XBBXB8  OF  A  OQZfVBNT. 


undar  the  appellation  of  fitter  Eranoes ;  and,  from 
the  moment  of  her  introduotion  into  the  order,  as- 
Bomed  a  position,  and  acquired  an  inflnenoe,  wluch 
amply  attested  tiie  sagacity  of  Father  Jnbert,  and 
Teimed  the  soundness  of  the  conclusions  which  he 
had  drawn  from  thek  first  interview. 

Meanwhile,  the  latter,  who  was  the  confessor  to 
this  same  conTcnt,  had  not  been  idle,  but  had  la* 
boured  industriously  to  promote  the  interests  of  sis. 
ter  Frances,  between  whom  and  himself  a  solemn 
compact  had  been  entered  into,  on  the  moming^of 
that  last  visit  to  the  conf  essionai,  to  which  allusion 
has  already  been  made.  By  means  of  an  under- 
ground communication  between  the  monastery,  in 
which  he  resided  to  avoid  scandal,  and  the  convent, 
by  the  connivance  of  the  sister  Porter,  who  was 
onarged  with  the  care  of  the  gate  which  opened  into 
the  latter  building  from  the  arched  way  which  form" 
ed  this  communication,  he  visited  sister  Frances  al- 
most nightly  in  her  private  cell,  where  he  instructed 
her  in  the  mysteries  and  usages  of  the  Jesuits,  and 
prepared  her  fully  to  act  that  part  whidi  she  af ter- 
waras  filled  with  such  distinguished  ability.  Nor 
was  thef  ather  confessor  wholly  disinterested  in  theso 
labours ;  he  was  duly  rewarded ;  and,  as  subsequent 
events  will  demonstrate,  thev  were  coupled  with  his 
own  schemes  of  personal  ambition.  A  more  unhal- 
lowed compact  than  that  which  existed  between  this 
Jriest  and  sister  Frances— a  compact  instigated  by  a 
esuit  mind,  stud  the  foul  offspring  of  passion  and  of 
pride— waspeorhaps  never  entmd  mto,  nor  ever  more 
fearfully  punished. 


ICT8SIBII8  OV  ▲  OOWBKT* 


w 


OHAPTEBIX. 

lonwn  inprospeet— Bottacy  6f  Father  Jnbert-^Power, 
ipostropne  to— The  compact  not  to  be  forgotten— Arri- 
Tftl  of  the  Legate— HU  treatment— Approaching  oere- 
xnony— High  Mass  celebrated— Oonsistorial  HaU*  its 

9)lendid  fnmitare  and  fittings— Procession  of  prieili— 
he  ceremonvof  Installation— Awful  Oath— The  cup  of 
blood— The  Bible  cursed  and  burned— Fierce  exultation 
of  the  priests— The  American  flag  of  libertv  trampled 
under  foot,  and  torn  iu  pieces— Father  Jubert  made 
head  of  the  Order  of  St.  Ignatius  Loyola,  for  the  United 
States  of  America— Homage  and  obdsance  of  the  priests 
—Oath  of  allegiance, 

FiTB  years  had  passed  away,  when,  one  momingy 
a  large  and  carefully-sealed  document,  bearing  upon 
it  the  impress  of  the  Father  General  of  the  Order  at 
Bome,wa8  handed  to  Father  Jubert.  Dismisnag 
I  the  servant  who  had  brought  it.  he  broke  th^  seals, 
and  sat  down  at  his  writing-table  to  read  it.  As  he 
progressed  in  its  perusal,  ne  becaipe  singularly  af« 
isoted ;  and,  at  length,  prising  from  hit  ohair,  great- 
ly  agitated,  his  eve  dilated,  and  his  countenance  ex- 
pressive both  01  astonishment  and  joy,  he  stood 
erect,  and,  with  the  letter  held  almost  at  arm's 
lensth,  he  gazed  upon  it  intently,  at  though  he  found 
it  difficult  to  comprehend  its  meaning.  Then, 
snatching  his  cap  nom  his  head,  he  threw  it  up  in 
the  air,  and  clapped  his  handt  inyery  excitement, 
ezchiiming,  as  he  did  so : 

*'  Well,  it  has  come  at  last ;  and  I— yes,  I— Fran. 
ooisJubert,— amHeadof  theOrderofSt.  Ignatius 
Lovola,  in  these  United  SUtes.'' 

Again  seating  himself,  and  carefully  examining 
the  seals,  the  envelope,  the  outside  and  inside,  of 
the  document  which  conferred  this  high  dignity  up- 
on hhBi  M  though  he  yet  feared  that  there  might 


■  •      i 

!                 ■  ■         - 

u"  .f.   P-- 


?!: 


i;.;   Oii.  ...:..j,..i 


86 


mSIXBXBS  01  A  OONTENT. 


baiome  mistake,  he  appeared  to  be  folly  aatisflid 
with  his  Borutiny,  and,  replaoinff  the  missiye  upon 
tiie  table,  again  arose  and  paced  the  room  from  one 
end  to  the  other,  talking  to  nimself  ,  and  occasionally 
uttering  audibly  a  sentMice  or  two. 

"  It  is  well,"  he  said ;  '*  I  haye  richly  merited  this 
hopour,  younff  as  I  am." 

*'  Power !  dearest  idol  of  my  soul,  I  have  thee; 
aye,  and  will  use  thee,  too !" 

*'  Louise,  our  compact  shall  not  be  forgotten." 

<*  But  when  does  he  say  the  installation  is  to  take 
place  P"  Here  he  seized  the  letter,  and  read, 

« The  Legate,  by  whom  you  are  to  be  installed, 
within  ten  days  after  his  amval  in  New  York,  is  the 
bearer  of  this  lettw.  See  that  he  is  treated  with  all 
the  respect  due  to  his  high  of&ce." 

**  Tr^ted  with  all  the  respect  due  to  his  high  of- 
fice," slowly  repeated  the  Jesait.  '^  Ajre,  that  shall 
he  be ;  and  h»  shall  be  made  a  stejjping  stone  to 
further  power.  I  must  away  to  see  this  Legate.'' 

So  saying,  he  carefully  locked  up  the  important 
document,  and,  arranging  his  dress,  went  out  to 
make  the  necessity  preparations  for  the  suitable  re- 
ception of  him  who  bore  so  honourable  a  commission 
as  tiie  representatiye  of  the  Supreme  Power  at  Borne. 

Severd  days  of  feasting  and  ceremony  had  pas- 
sed by,  that  set  apart  for  the  installation  of  Father 
Jubert  had  arrived. 

At  an  early  hour  in  the  morning,  High  Mass  was 
celebrated  in  the  chapel  of  the  monastery;  after 
which  all  the  members  of  the  order,  resident  in  the 
city,  together  with  several  from  a  distance,  who  had 
been  hastily  summoned  to  attend,  adjourned  in  i>ro- 
cesiion  to  the  Consistorial  Hall,  m  the  same  build- 
ing. This  waa  a  spacious  room,  with  arched  ceil- 
ing, some  sixt^  feet  in  length,by  thirty  in  width; 
the  walls  heayily  draped  in  black  doth,  whidi  hung 
in  deep  folds,  so  as  entirelv  to  shut  out  fconi  sight 
the  openings  both  for  windows  and  doors*    At  one 


KY8TEBIB8  OV  JL  OOJNVJWT. 


87 


md  of  this  apartment  was  a  platform  raised  some 
ihreefeet  above  the  floor,  being  coTered  with  rioh 
loarpeting  of  tiie  best  fabric.  Upon  this  platform  or 
dais,  was  placed  a  sort  of  throne,  painted  a  bright 
scarlet,  ornamented  with  gold,  and  surmounted  by  a 
magui^ceDt  canopy  of  silk,  of  the  same  colour,  trim- 
med  with  heavy  gold  fringe.  In  the  centre  of  the 
room  was  suspended  from  the  ceiling,  a  richly  cut- 
glass  chandelier,  with  almost  innumerable  lights 
I  brilliantly  burning ;  while  placed  at  convenient  dis- 
tances around  the  hall  were  candelabra  of  silver, 
supporting  massive  branch  candlesticks,  each  having 
several  lights.  At  the  lower  end,  there  was  a  neat 
but  small  organ,  of  powerful  tone,  and  seats  for  the 
choristers  arranged  near  it. 

Immediately  in  front  of  the  throne  stood  an  altar, 
upon  which  was  placed  a  golden  censer,  sei^ding 
forth  its  clouds  of  sweet  incense  to  perfume  the  air: 
and  near  this  altar,  an  ancient,  curiously  carved 
diair,  lined  and  cushioned  with  black  velvet,  and 
studded  with  gold-headed  nails,  intended  for  the  oc- 
cupancy of  the  candidate  for  the  honours  of  the  oc- 
casion. Seats  of  a  plainer  description,  but  display- 
ing the  same  conlarast  of  colours,  were  arranged 
along  the  sides  of  the  room,  on  either  hand. 

As  the  procession  of  priests,  clothed  in  their  long 
black  robes,  with  their  peculiarly  shaped  cans  up- 
on their  heads,  and  having  the  youngest  member  of 
the  order  in  the  front,  bearing  a  massive  silver  om- 
cifiz,  and  the  oldest  in  the  rear,  with  the  Legate  in 
the  centre,  supported  on  the  rignt  hand  by  the  can- 
didate, and  on  the  left  by  the  Father  Superior  of 
the  monastery ;  and  all,  save  these  last,  walking  two 
abreast,  entering  the  ante^chamber,  they  severally 
armed  themselves  with  drawn  swords,  which  were 

Ced  in  racks  on  either  hand ;  and,  as  they  passed 
ugh  the  looned«up  drapery  whioAi  coverad  the 
smple  door*way,  Detween  two  sentinels,  who,  fnlfy 
umed|  were  there  found  on  dxitjf  they  tevwaUy  gav# 


as 


KYSTBBXES  OV  ▲  CONVENT, 


the  watdh-word,  on  the  right  and  left—"  Abasia  Xt. 
beridJ' 

Hayinj;  entered  the  spacious  hall,  whose  whole 
arrangements  presented  amost.  imposing  appearance; 
the  iMate  was  escorted  to  the  throne,  by  the  entire 
bodr  of  priests,  who  kneeled  in  a  circle  around  him, 
while  he  seated  himself,  and  exclaimed, 

**  Honour  to  his  lordship,  the  Legate  of  his  Holi* 
ness  the  Pope,  and  Vicegerent  of  the  Father  Genual 
of  the  Order  of  St  Ignatius  Loyola  !" 

Then  rising,  and  taking  their  appropriate  seats, 
the  oruoifix,  meanwhile,  haying  been  placed  in  an 
upright  pontion  in  a  receptacle  for  its  foot,  pro- 
Tided  for  the  purpose,  near  the  altar,  a  low-toned, 
but  beautiful,  chant  was  sung  by  the  choir,  assisted 
by  the  organ,  whose  rich  notes  seemed  to  fiU  the 
apartment  with  fleeting  melody. 

The  Legate,  wearing  a  robe  of  gorgeous  grandeur, 
then  arose,  and,  with  a  distinct  yoice,  read  aloud  the 
authority,  appointing  ErsDoois  Jubert  the  Bepre- 
sentatiye  cf  the  Supreme  Head  of  the  Jesuits  in  the 
United  States ;  and  commanding  his  installation  as 
such,  by  the  hands  of  the  Father  Komeo,  there  pre- 
sent for  that  purpose. 

"  The  will  of  the  Father  General  be  done !"  cried 
all  the  priests,  deyoutly  crossing  tbeniselyes  and 
bowing  low,  as  the  Legate  took  his  seat,  while 
a  joyous  peal  burst  forth  from  the  organ. 

Ihrecting  the  Superior  of  the  monastery  to  pre- 
sent the  candidate  at  the  altar,  the  Legate  proceed- 
ed to  dictate  to  the  kneeliuff  priest,  the  rest  all  stand- 
ing, the  following  oath,  whidi  was  repeated  by  him 
in  an  audible  yoice : 

*%  Francois  Jubert,  in  the  presence  of  the  Holy 
Mother  of  Gk)d ;  of  St.  Ignatius  Loyola;  theLs* 
gate  of  the  Father  (General  of  the  order  of  Jesuits, 
and  of  theae  members  of  the  same,  here  assembled : 
dossoet  slnoerely  and  solemnly  ewear;— that  I  will 
and  do  xenounoe  all  allegianoe  to  kingi  prince,  po- 


3CYBTEBIES  OF  1.  OOJNVJfiAT. 


80 


tentate,  and  power  of  eyery  kind,  and  howerer  oon« 
stitntedy  which  may  now  or  hereafter  hold  civil  rule 
in  this  or  in  any  other  coun^  in  which  I  may  be 
called  to  reside ;  acknowledging,  now  and  for  ever. 
no  other  ciyil  or  religious  rule  whatsoeyer,  laye  thai 
of  his  HoUnest,  tiie  Pope— the  Vicegerent  and  Yicar 
of  Christ— and  of  the  Father  General  of  the  order 
of  St.  Ignatius  Loyola ;  hereby  solemnly  engaging 
to  sarrender  myself,  at  all  times,  aa  I  now  do,  bodr, 
soul,  and  spirit,  unresenredly  to  their  sole  control ; 
to  have  no  will  or  mind  of  m^  own,  but  nnhesita* 
tinf[ly  and  without  question,  in  all  things,  to  think, 
and  speak,  and  act,  as  thej  may  direct. 

**  I  do  most  sincerely  and  solemnly  swear  eternal 
hatred  to  all  forms  of  goyemment,  whether  mon« 
archical  or  republic,  and  by  whomsoeyer  adminis- 
tered, whose  tendency  is  in  any  wise,  directly  or  in* 
directly,  to  limit,  or  subvert,  or  oontoolthe  supreme 
and  rightful  authority  of  his  Holiness,  the  Pope,  or 
the  Father  General  of  the  order  of  Jesuits,  to  reign 
over  the  whole  world ;  and  to  use  my  best  endea- 
yours,  at  all  times,  for  the  overthrow  of  all  such 
frovemments,  and  the  universal  extension  of  that  of 
the  order  of  which  I  am  a  member. 

"I  do  sincerely  and  soicmnly  swear  eternal  hatred 
to  all  sects,  societies,  and  institutions,  of  every  kind| 
whether  political  or  religious,  which  tend  to  the  es« 
tablishment  of  civil  or  religious  freedom  in  this  or 
in  any  other  land ;  and  to  use  my  best  efforts  for 
their  destruction ;  ever  keeping  m  my  mind  that 
divine  maxim  of  the  order,  that— *  the  end  justifies 
the  means.' 

"  I  do  most  sincerely  and  solemnly  swear  that  I 
will  not  appropriate  to  my  own  purposes,  any  fund^ 
that  may  be  entrusted  to  my  care  or  keeping,  as  be- 
longing  to  the  treasury  of  the  order :  but  will  sacred- 
ly apply  the  same  to  uie  uses  to  wiiich  ttiey  are  set 
apart,  rendering  to  the  Father  General  at  Bome^ 
qoarterlyi  a  true  and  faithful  aoooont  of  the  same ; 


U-. 


4a 


ICTSnOtlBS  OV  ▲  OONVBMTt 


mnd  that  I  will  further  uie  all  pouihle  means  to  in- 
crease the  wealth  of  the  order,  for  the  hotter  aocom- 
plishment  of  the  purposes  for  whioh  it  has  been  in- 
stituted. 

*<  I  do  most  sinctrel  J  and  solemnly  swear  that  I 
will  not  expose,  to  any  person  or  persons  whatever, 
nor  permit  the  same  to  he  done  hy  others,  any  of  the 
secret  instructions  that  may  be  given  to  me  by  the 
Father  Qeneral,  or  any  of  his  duly  accredited  ajrenta ; 
and  should  any  such  at  any  time  fall  into  the  hands 
of  those  for  whom  they  were  not  intended « I  will 
deny,  even  with  oaths,  their  authenticity,  affirming 
them  to  be  forf^eries. 

"  I  do  most  sincerely  and  solemnly  swear  to  regard 
the  orders,  instructions,  and  requirements,  of  the 
Father  Gkmeral  of  the  order  of  Jesuits,  as  of  para- 
mount authority  to  those  of  his  Holiness  the  I^ope, 
wheneyer  the  latter  shall  clash  or  conflict  with  the 
former ;  and,  should  I  ever  discorer  any  plot  or  con- 
spiracy, or  intention  of  evil  in  any  person  or  persons 
whatsoever,  towards  the  interests  or  s&'ety  of  the 
order,  I  will,  without  delay,  communicate  the  same 
to  the  Father  General,  and  do  all  in  my  power  to 
contravene  and  to  thwart  such  plot,  conspiracy,  or 
intention  of  evil :  always  esteeming  his  interest  and 
authority,  as  the  head  of  the  order,  paramount  to 
all  others. 

« I  do  most  sincerely  and  solemnly  swear  that  I 
will  keep  a  true,  faithful,  and  permanent  reerister, 
and  forward  a  copy  thereof  quarterly  to  the  Father 
General,  of  all  events,  political  or  religious  that  may 
come  to  my  knowledge,  and  of  all  persons,  by  name, 
residence,  and  occupation,  whether  Protestant  or 
Catholic,  who  may  in  any  wise,  or  to  any  extent,  ob- 
struct the  progress  of  our  order,  or  say  or  do  aught 
against  it ;  and  by  my  agents,  officers,  and  emissa- 
noi,  do  all  in  my  power  to  injure  their  business,  and 
ruin  their  character  and  fortune. 

^  I  do  most  sincerely  and  solemnly  swear  that  I 


SCT8TSBZB8  OF  JL  001IVB2RT* 


41 


will)  at  whateYor  inoonTenienoe  or  sa  orifioe  to  my- 
self, repair,  without  delay,  to  Borne,  or  whatever 
other  place  I  mp  j  be  ordered  b^  the  Father  General ; 
and  ihould  I  in  any  manner  Tiolate  this  my  oath,  I 
will  inform  him  of  such  violation,  and  underfco  any 
puoisbment  that  he  may  think  proper  to  inflict  upon 
me  therefore. 

<«  To  do,  and  keep,  and  perform,  all  of  this,  I  de« 
Toutly  cau  upon  the  ever  Dlessed  Trinity  to  witness 
niy  sincerity ;  and  should  I  ever  prove  a  traitor  to 
the  order,  or  betray  its  interests,  or  its  secrets,  may 
the  severest  pains  of  purgatory  be  suffered  by  me, 
without  cessation  or  mitigation,  for  ever  and  ever.*' 

**Amen  !  and  Amen  I"  shouted  all  the  priests. 

This  feurful  oath— so  fully  embracing  all  the  de- 
structive features  of  the  Jesuits,  and  so  faithfully 
portraying  the  real  objects  of  their  organizations— 
haviug  been  taken  by  the  candidate,  he  was  sternly 
ordered  to  arise  from  his  kneeling  posture,  and  to 
place  his  hand  upon  the  cross,  the  symbol  of  his 
faith ;  while  the  whole  number  of  priests  were  made 
to  surround  him,  and,  pointinff  their  naked  swords 
at  his  body,  were  directed  to  thrust  the  steel  to  his 
heart,  should  he  falter  or  hesitate  in  the  least  in  obey- 
ing the  order  which  should  next  be  given  to  him,  and 
which  was  wholly  unexpected  by  him ;  a  test  of  the 
promptitude  to  comply  with  any  mandate  that  he 
may  hereafter  receive  from  the  Supreme  Head  of 
the  order,  though  its  performance  might  involve 
even  death  itself. 

The  Superior  of  the  monastery,  by  direction  of 
the  Legate,  then  handed  to  the  candidate  a  small 
cup,  formed  of  a  section  of  a  skull,  into  which  had 
heen  poured  about  half  a  gill  of  a  dark  fluid  resem- 
hling  human  blood.  Bidding  him  hold  this  oap  to 
his  lips,  the  Legate  thus  addressed  him  :— 

'^FrancoisJubert,  the  honour  which  lam  about 
to  confer  upon  you,  by  the  authority  of  his  Holiness 
the  Pope,  and  of  the  father  General  of  the  order  of 
224  B 


i*i 


I;      « 


4a 


aCYSTBBIES  OF  ▲  CONYBNT. 


St.  Ignatios  Loyola,  is  of  too  august  a  character, 
and  iuYoWes  interests  of  too  great  moment  to  be 
lightly  bestowed,  or  to  be  given  to  one  who  quails 
at  the  sight,  or  smell,  or  taste,  of  human  blood ;  if 
you  have  been  sincere  in  taking  the  solemn  oath 
which  has  just  been  administered  to  jou^  and  if  you 
are  worthy  of  the  high  honour  for  which  you  are  the 
candidate,  you  will  not  hesitate  to  drink  the  con* 
tents  of  that  cup.  If  you  are  insincere  or  craven  in 
spirit,  you  will  hesitate  and  die.  It  is  blood^DBUSK !" 

No  sooner  had  tiie  word  passed  the  lips  of  the  Le- 
gate—uttered in  a  tone  of  powerful  emphasis,  which 
ran  through  the  vast  apartment,  and  vibrated  on  the 
nerves  of  the  prints — ^an  the  candidate  swallowed 
the  contents  of  the  cup,  without  even  blanching,  as 
though  it  had  contained  the  most  delicious  nectar; 
and,  to  show  that  he  had  done  so,  held  it  up  at  the 
full  stxetch  of  his  arm,  as  his  commanding  stature 
towered  above  the  priests  who  surrounded  him,  it:^ 
bottom  turned  upwards. 

**  Lower  your  swords  I**  cried  the  Legate,  ^'the 
candidate  is  worthy." 

The  priests  let  fall  their  sword  points,  and,  as  they 
did  so,  a  rich  and  triumphant  gust  of  music  sounded 
forth  from  the  organ ;  while  t£e  choristers  chanted 
the  patron  saint  and  founder  of  the  order. 

"  Bring  forth  the  accursed  book,"  cried  the  Legate, 
when  the  music  had  ceased. 

A  copy  of  the  Frotestuit  Bible  was  then  handed 
to  the  candidate;  while  a  chaffing  ^sh  of  burning 
coal  was  placed  before  him. 

**  That  book,"  said  the  Legate,  <*  is  the  great  ene- 
my of  our  Order.  It  mhst  perish  from  the  earth,  or 
we  must  cease  to  exist.  Curse  and  burn  it,  in  token 
of  your  enmity  and  ours,  and  of  your  determination 
to  do  all  that  lies  in  your  pawer  for  its  destruction, 
and  with  it  for  that  of  all  heretics." 

*'  I  curse  thee,  thou  text-book  of  heresy !"  exclaim- 
ed the  candidate,  placing  the  book  upon  the  biasing 


BCTBTmSIBS  OV  A  OOlffVBZIT. 


eoals ;  "  I  spit  upon  thee,  vile  cheat,  uncompromis- 
ing  enemy  of  my  order.  I  bam  thee ;  and,  as  thou 
coniumest  in  that  flame,  eo  may  all  heretics  be  burn- 
ed in  that  fierce  flame  Which  shall  wreathe  itself 
around  them,  in  that  hell  prepared  for  the  reception 
and  punishment  of  all  those  who  put  their  confidence 
in  thee ;  and  reject  the  true  Scriptures,  the  only  true 
and  infallible  church/' 

As  the  sacred  volume—the  charter  of  human  liber- 
ties— crackled  and  glowed  under  the  action  of  the 
fire,  and  its  smoke  ascended  heavenward,  like  the 
spirit  of  many  a  martyr,  whose  body  has  been  bum* 
ed  by  the  minions  of  poperv,  a  shout,  wild  and  fierce^ 
arose  from  tht  oongregatea  priests,  which  shook  the 
room  in  whose  midst  they  stood ;  while  again  the 
organ  and  choristers  sent  forth  swelling  pssansof 
praise  to  ^^  Mary^  ther^ifuge  of  ainners^the  bleased 
Mother  of  Qodr 

**  firing  forth  the  ensign  of  freedom  f"  hissed,  from 
between  his  teeth,  the  proud  Legate,  concentrating; 
unutterable  hatred  in  the  manner  in  which  he  called 
for  the  American  banner,  under  whose  stars  and 
stripes,  Washington  and  the  worthies  of  the  revolu- 
tion  had  fought  and  bled. 

"  This  vile  rag,'*  he  cried,  as  the  flag  of  the  Unioni 
was  being  unfurled  from  its  staff,  **  fit  emblem  of 
those  heflish  principles  which  have  wrested  this  no- 
ble land,  with  its  fertile  fields,  its  majestic  rivers, 
and  its  ocean  lakes,  from  the  hands  ox  an  imbecile 
king ;  which  have  revolutionized  France;  and  which, 
if  not  prevented  from  spreading,  will  one  day  over- 
turn the  thrones,  and  destroy  the  ancient  establish- 
ed monarchies  of  Europe  ;  that  vile  rag  is  more  to 
be  dreaded  bv  us,  as  an  order,  than  all  things  else, 
beside  the  Bible.  If  it  be  permitted  to  pollute  the 
pore  air  of  Heaven  bv  its  foul  embrace,  for  half  a 
esntoxy  longer,  it  will  float  on  every  sea,  on  every 
land,  and  be  the  rallying  sign  for  the  nations  of  the 
itrttu  It  most  be  torn  down ;  it  must  be  trampled 


I    : 


-k-r 


1    • .  f ' 


t 

■  u 

-•t^ 


^'  -H-l 


44 


aCTSTBBIBB  OF  A  OONfJUlT. 


under  foot ;  it  most  trail  dishonoored  in  the  datt,  or 
onr  oanee  is  lost  In  token  of  your  loTe  for  the  or- 
der, end  determinetion  to  uproot  libertjr — accursed 
name,  more  cursed  thing  I— tear  it  from  its  support, 
and  trample  it  beneath  your  feet." 

Hastily  obeying  the  mandate,  the  candidate  flung 
the  stripes  and  stars  upon  the  floor,  and,  with  an 
energy  which  declared  the  feelings  of  his  heart, 
ground  them  with  his  heel ;  while,  in  a  yoice  of  thun- 
der, the  Legate  cried-- 

*<  Jesuits,  destroy  the  enemy  of  your  order.  A  baa 
laldberte." 

like  as  a  herd  of  famished  wol  yes  rush  upon  their 
prey,  rendhig  and  tearing  it  in  pieces,  while  growl- 
ing and  screaming  in  horrible  disoor4>  they  oyertom 
esyoh  other  in  their  efforts  to  gratify  their  rapacity : 
■0  rushed  these  Jesuits  upon  the  ensign  of  the  world's 
freedom,  and,  puriiing  each  other  aside,  in  frantic 
fury,  they  soon  tore  it  into  a  thousand  fragments, 
while  ttieir  yells  and  shouts  added  to  the  terrible  up- 
roar of  the  scene.  Meanwhile  from  the  choir  came 
forth,  in  strains  of  wild  excitement,  as  though  the 
dowxiall  of  man's  liberty  and  the  uniyersal  triumph 
ci  Jesuitism  were  already  secured,  and  the  world 
were  fixed  in  eternal  slayery,  ciyil,  political,  and  re- 
ligious—the**  Te  Deum  Laudamus  1  insulting  high 
heayen  with  blasphemous  ascriptions  of  praise,  as 
thouffh  it  had  been  instrumental  in  a  destruction  of 
all  that  is  dearest  to  man,  and  of  highest  apprecia- 
tion in  the  sight  of  Gk>d  and  of  the  blessed  angels. 

In  the  meantime,  the  Legate  had  receiyed,  from 
an  attendant  priest,  a  gorgeous  robe,  which  might 
haye  well  become  a  monarch,  and,  when  the  insult- 
ing strains  had  died  away«  and  the  priests,  at  his 
oommand|  had  resumed  their  places,  he  adyanoed  to 
the  candidate,  who  stood  near  the  crucifix,  and, 
throwing  the  garment  upon  his  ihouldeni  M  him 
to  the  throne,  and,  seating  him  there,  turned  to  the 
SrieatSi  saying—  .  j 


KmSUEB  Off  A  OOHVBNT. 


45 


^^Behddy  Joioitt,  the  Father  General  of  Iha  order 
of  St.  I^natiiui  Loyela,  for  the  United  Statee  of 
America;  whom  I  aedare  duly  appointed,  and  in* 
Btalled  in  that  high  of&oe.  Approach,  and  do  hit 
Lordship  reTcrence." 

So  laying,  he  oansed  the  priests  to  kneel  around 
the  throne,  and  to  repeat  after  him  the  following  sa- 
lutation and  oath  of  alledrianoe : — 

<*  Hail,  most  worthy  Father  General,  we  honour 

thee! 

**  We  solemnly  swear  full  and  ezpUcit  allegianoe 
to  yon,  as  tiie  representatiye  of  the  Tather  General 
of  the  order ;  and  to  obey,  without  hesitation,  or 
question,  any  command  that  you  may  giro  to  us, 
while  holdinff  the  said  high  ofllce ;  here  surrendering 
ourselves  body,  soul,  and  spirit,  *  as  dead  oorpeea,'  to 
your  control  and  government,  to  be  directed  and 
used  as  your  judgment,  and  that  of  Him  whom  you 
represent,  maF  'dictate." 

It  was  a  pre'-  XR^ment  for  Franoois  Jubert;  and 
well  did  it  repa.  v  vn  for  the  toil,  anxiety  and  difort, 
which  it  bad  cost  him  to  gain  the  eminent  distinotion. 

A  choral  burst  of  melodr,  swelling  the  general  joy 
and  congratulation,  dosed  the  oeremoniu :  and  the 
priests,  arising  from  their  knees,  and  preceded  by  the 
Legate  and  their  new  Father  Qeneral,  repaired,  un- 
der the  conduct  of  the  Superior,  to  the  refectory, 
where  a  sumptuous  banquet  awaited  them. 


OHAFTEB  X. 

The  Father  General's  affections  for  Sitter  Frances  on  the 
wane— Removes  her,  by  instituting  her  to  the  ofice  of 
Superior  in  the  Oonvent  of  Annunciation— Her  active 
aaaproielyting  efforts  shortly  after  assuming  ofllce— 
Bmiiy  ds  yere^The  Superiors  base  conduct  towards 
her. 

Fob  some  monthi  prior  to  the  occurrences  whigli 


4 


:,.| 


i' 

■'. » 

-  i '  i 

'R."  ■■-§" 

■■:                                      ■' 

\i^ 

;                "V 

Mm 

46 


VT8tBBXB8  09  JL  OOVTBNT. 


hmye  jait  been  described,  tbe  Mother  Superior  of  tli« 
Ammndatioii,  distant  some  fifty  miles  from  the  city 
of  New  York,  had  been  in  very  feeble  health ;  and, 
among  the  first  acts  which  the  Father  General  was 
called  npon  to  pe^orm  after  his  installation  into  of- 
fice, was  to  appoint  a  superior  to  fill  the  vacancy  oc- 
casioned by  her  death. 

He  had  not  lost  his  attachment  to  Sister  Frances, 
but,  with  the  inconstancy  of  the  Jesuit  characterjhe 
had  for  some  time  past  thought  it  no  harm  to  look 
upon  other  pretty  faces  besides  hers ;  and  his  facile 
conscience  saw  no  impropriety  in  intrigues  with 
other  nuns  than  the  good  sister,  who,  exceedingly 
jealous  of  her  power  over  him,  maintained  a  most 
rigid  watch  upon  his  conduct;  so  vigilant,  indeed, 
that  there  haa  already  occurred  some  interesting 
qoaxrels  between  them,  which,  however,  were  easily 
made  up,  although  they  left  traces  of  uneasiness  be- 
hind them  upon  her  mind,  conscious,  as  she  was, 
that  her  personal  attractions  were  not  as  freab  as 
once  they  were. 

It  was,  therefore,  a  great  relief  to  the  Father  Ge- 
neral to  have  it  in  his  power  to  appoint  Sister  Fran- 
ces to  tiie  vacancy  ;  as,  while  he  adroitly  persuaded 
her  that  it  was  an  honour  which  he  had  long  been 
anadous  to  see  conferred  upon  her,  and  one  for  which 
she  was  peculiarly  qualified,  he  would  thus  be  re- 
moved from  her  immediate  espionage,  and  be  more 
at  liberty  to  act  as  he  pleased. 

Connected  with  the  Convent  of  the  Annunciation, 
was  a  very  larf^e  female  boarding-school,  which,  in 
the  great  dearth  of  the  means  of  education  existing 
at  this  time,  was  very  extensively  patronized  by  Pro- 
testant families.  This  was  represented  to  Sister 
Francea  as  being  a  very  strong  induoement  to  her 
acoeptanoe  of  the  appointment,  since  it  would  afford 
her  ample  opportunity  for  the  proteotioii  of  thein- 
teresti  of  the  order,  in  proselytmg  to  tbe  true  faith 
the  children  of  heretics,  who  enould  be  entmited  to 


KTSTEBIES  OV  ▲  OONVBNT. 


47 


Ambitioti8  of  power  and  of  preferment ;  and  snch 
an  appointaient  as  this,  with  its  cognate  rank  and 
inflaence  in  the  order,  haying  been  an  object  held 
in  yiew  in  the  original  compact,  to  which  allnsion 
has  already  been  made,  Sister  fVances  felt  a  sacred 

ioy  in  its  contemplation ;  while,  at  the  same  time, 
ler  mind  misgave  her  somewhat  as  to  the  real  mo« 
tiyes  of  the  Father  (General  |  bnt  when,  in  an  inter- 
yiew  which  she  had  with  him,  in  her  private  room. 
she  broached  the  jubjedt,  and  he,  with  well -affected 
surprise,  the  most  solemn  protestations,  and  fondest 
caresses,  assured  her  that  she  was  wholly  mista- 
ken ;  she  suffered  herself  to  be  deceived,  and  accept- 
ed the  office,  as  an  additional  proof  of  the  undimin- 
ished affection  of  her  priest  lover. 

In  the  course  of  a  few  weeks,  she  was  duly  in- 
stalled Mother  Superior  of  the  Convent  of  Annun- 
ciatiouj  and  entered  upon  the  duties  of  her  new  sta- 
tion, with  a  spirit  and  zeal,  as  well  as  exhibition  of 
talents  of  the  highest  order,  which  bespoke  her  adap- 
tation to  it,  and  presaged  a  brilliant  career  for  her 
in  the  future. 

With  a  tact  rarely  equalled,  and  bv  means  of  her 
winning  manners,  and  consummate  skill  in  accom- 
modating herself  to  the  peculiarities  of  those  whom 
the  wished  to  control,  she  soon  succeeded  in  engaging 
the  affections  of  the  nuns,  and  especially  in  securi^ig 
those  of  the  young  ladies  who  were  boarding  pupils 
in  the  establishment.  In  the  course  of  five  years  af- 
ter her  installation,  she  was  the  instrument  of  con- 
verting not  less  than  thirty-ffve  of  the  latter  to  the 
Bomish  faith:  twelve  of  whom  joined  the  order, 
and  became  nuns. 

Among  the  latter  was  a  Miss*Emilie  de  Yere,  a 
young  girl,  some  sixteen  years  of  age,  of  surpas- 
sing beauty,  and  the  only  daughter  of  a  wealthv 
planter  in  lK>uisiana,  who,  having  lived  in  New  Yoric 
for  sometime  before  he  removed  to  his  southern 
home,  had  sdeoted  the  Convent  of  the  Annuncia- 


11: 


t  : . 


ft- 


48 


XTSTEZtXSS  07  A  OOHVBKT. 


tkm,  ai  a  suitable  place  for  fhe  edaoation  of  the 
child,  because  of  its  remoteness  from  the  city.  Mr. 
Be  Yere  was  descended  from  Protestant  parentage, 
as  was  his  wife,  but  thought  well  of  the  Catholics, 
and  apprehended  no  danger  in  thus  placing  his 
daughter  in  their  hands,  while  he  went  to  his  far- 
off  home,  not  expecting  to  see  her  again  for  some 
three  years.  Great  was  the  self-gratulation  of  the 
Mother  Superior,  when  the  rich  heiress  joined  the 
Catholic  church,  but  greater  still  when  she  wore  the 
habit  of  a  nun,  and  bore  the  name  of  Sister  Theresa, 
two  years  before  the  time  of  which  we  are  now  writ- 
ing. 

In  the  course  of  one  of  his  somewhat  frequent 
Tisits  to  the  Convent, — during  whicn  the  Mother 
Superior  was  always  careful  to  keep,  as  much  as  pos- 
sible, out  of  sight,  all  those  nuns  who  had  any  pre- 
tensions to  personal  attractions, — ^the  Father  Qener- 
al  happened  to  meet  Sister  Theresa  in  one  of  the  pas- 
sages; and,  immediately  recognising  her  as  one 
whose  great  beauty  had  strongly  attracted  his  no- 
tice, on  the  occasion  of  her  taking  the  religious  tows, 
he  entered  into  conyersation  with  her;  and,  while 
holding  her  hand  in  his,  and  giving  her  some  father- 
ly advice,  the  Mother  Superior,  having  occasion  to 
Siss  that  way,  unseen  by  them,  had  witnessed  a  por- 
on  of  the  interview,  and  imagined  that  she  saw 
enough  to  warrant  a  jealous  feeling  on  her  part,  and 
to  determine  her  to  prevent  any  further  occurrence 
of  a  similar  sort.  Dissembling  her  true  feelings, 
however,  she  met  the  Father  (General,  in  half  an  hour 
afterwards,  with  a  brow  as  placid  as  if  nothing  had 
occurred  to  disturb  the  <|uiet  current  of  her  emotions. 
To  gratify  her  vindictiveness,  nevertheless,  as  she 
dared  not  reproach  the  General,  she  degraded  the 
poor  nun,  for  a  month,  to  servile  work  in  the  kitch- 
OL  without  assigning  to  her  any  other  reason  for  so 
domg,  than  her  o?m  will. 


The  Father  C 

ahout  six  we 

and,  as  he  apj 

of  tne*  beauti 

termined,  if  p 

her;  but,  awa 

Superior,  he] 

with  great  ca' 

There  was, 

because  of  a  i 

ces,  and  of  1 

General  had 

casion,  been  ( 

convent.    H< 

OGoasion. 

Aocordini^l 
Sister  Martii 
f  al  nun  was 
his  Question, 
cruel  treatm 
the  hands  of 
what  offence 
feelings  in  b 
a  few  words 
from  his  po 


XY0ffSBIB8  OV  ▲  CONTSNT. 


49 


CHAPTEB  XI. 

The  Father  General's  visit  to  the  convent— His  interest  for 
Sister  Theresa— The  deformed  nun— Proposes  a  meeting 
at  midnight  with  Sister  Theresa— The  Mother  Superior's 
kind  entertainment  of  the  Father  General  in  the  private 
parlour— Her  chagrin  at  his  abruptlv  leaving  her— Sua- 

gicion — Sister  Theresa's  sorrow  and  anxiety  at  receiv* 
ig  the  FaUier's  note— Her  trepidation  on  meeting  the 
Father  General— He  reassures  her— His  wily  stratasems 
to  accomplish  his  base  object— A  wolf  in  sheep'i  cloth- 
ing. 

Thb  Father  General  again  visited  the  convent,  in 
about  six  weeks  after  this  unpleasant  occorrenoe; 
and.  as  he  approached  the  great  iron  gate,  the  image 
of  the*  beautiful  nun  arose  to  his  mind,  and  he  de- 
termined, if  poBsihle,  to  learn  something  more  about 
her;  but,  aware  of  the.  sensitiveness  of  the  Mother 
Superior,  he  knew  that  his  inquiries  must  be  made 
wim  great  caution. 

There  was,  in  the  convent,  a  deformed  nun,  who, 
because  of  a  grudge  which  she  bore  to  Mother  Ihran- 
ces,  and  of  the  uniform  kindness  with  which  the 
General  had  treated  her,  had,  on  more  than  one  oc- 
casion, been  of  service  to  him  in  his  intrigues  in  the 
convent.  He  determined  to  make  use  of  ner  on  this 
occasion. 

Accordingly,  seizing  a  favourable  moment,  he  took 
Sister  Martina  aside,  and  asked  her  who  the  beauti- 
ful nun  was.  The  communicative  sister  answered 
his  question,  and  said  so  much  about  her,  and  the 
cruel  treatment  which  she  had  recently  received  at 
the  hands  of  the  Mother  Superior,  for  she  knew  not 
what  offence,  as  she  affirmed,  as  ipreatly  to  enlist  hie 
feelings  in  behalf  of  Sister  Theresa.  Hastil v  writing 
a  lew  words  upon  »  piece  of  jpapner,  which  he  took 
from  his  pocket-book,  he  handed  it  to  the  nun ;  di« 


'     1 


t 

.,  .       '  [ 

a 

1 

.     '      ^   '         '     1 

'% 

V  t 

!          i     '     *    ^ 

'if 

-.- 1-  -t- 

4 

1 

'    t^ 

% 

^ 

^        F  '        a" 

) 

' 

'        ^""•S 

.S 

ir 

*,.           ^»-          3BL 

1 

i 

%Ui 

T 

t 
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■  Ikl 

i. 

r      J^f  *^  . 

:.;fci 

Jk 

i^UL^ 

mIH^^^^^H 

50 


ICTSTBBIBS  OV  A  OOIXVWST* 


reoting  her  to  give  it  to  Sister  Theresa,  and  to  be 
disoreet  about  £e  matter,  saying  that  he  would  re* 
ward  her  handsomely,  if  she  cud  not  betray  his 
trust.  Then  returning  into  the  parlour,  where  he  I 
had  left  the  Superior,  he  chatted  gaily  with  her  un- 
til they  were  ofdled  into  the  refectory  to  tea.  While 
seated  at  the  table,  the  nuns  and  boarders  all  present 
both  the  Father  General  and  the  Mother  Superior 
were  models  of  propriety  and  decorum ;  and  the  for* 
mer,  especially,  was  careful  not  to  cast  even  a  look 
which  could  serve  to  excite  any  suspicion  in  the 
mind  of  the  Superior,  while  their  juniors  were  great 
ly  edified  by  their  pious  conversation  concerning 
some  of  the  saints,  and  the  miracles  that  had  been 
wrought  bv  them. 

Arising  m>m  the  table,  the  Mother  Frances  invit- 
ed the  (^neral  to  her  private  parlour,  the  room  in 
which  she  usually  entertained  him,  when  he  visit* 
ed  the  convent.  This  was  one  of  a  suite  of  roomi^ 
three  in  number,  set  apart  for  her  own  sj^ciid  use, 
and  never  intruded  upon  save  by  her  own  invitation 
or  permission :— all  ox  these,  save  the  last,  opened 
upon  the  great  passage  which  ran  throu|fh  the 
house,  on  the  second  floor.  The  first  of  this  suite 
was  furnished  as  a  private  parlour,  in  very  neat  and 
^egant  taste.  Communicating  with  this,  by  means 
of  a  sliding  pannel,  so  ingeniously  contrived  as  to 
be  Imown  to  but  few  of  the  inmates  of  the  f amilji 
was  a  beautiful  bed-chamber,  most  tastefully  fitted 
up ;  and  beyond  this,  and  accessible  onlv  from  this 
room,  was  a  smaller  apartment,  arrangea  as  an  ora- 
tory, having  a  mahogany  reading  desk,  a  magnificent 
ebony  crucifix,  an  escritoire  inlaid  with  mother  of 
pearl,  and  some  hanging  shelves,  upon  which  were 
arranged  a  number  of  elegantly-bound  volumes^ 
the  entire  suite  of  rooms  was  lumdsomely  carpeted, 
and  abounded  with  indioationB  of  female  taste  and 
refinement. 

V    Having  seated  themselves  upon  a  sofa  placed  at 
one  side  of  the  private  parlor,  and  conversed  for 


lometimeupo 
and,  talring  fr 
canter  of  old 
delicious  spio 
her  own  hand 
gtood  in  f  roni 
to  partake  of 
ohesB,  of  whic 
and  for  whi( 
before  him. 

They  thus  < 

clock  tolled  t 

General,  plea 

well  as  most  \ 

nor,  asked  lei 

which  was  si 

furnished. 

granted^  witl 

disappointed 

Meanwhile. 

Theresa,  by  tl 

dted  her  min 

**  Meet  me 

alone,  at  mid 

tieth  time,  ai 

her  hand,  thi 

<<Whatca] 

that  his  intei 

evU  flashed  a 

claiming— 

<<  What  ha 

to  think  so  u 

«'Have  I 

own  confess 

<*  Gracious 

Hereasei 

friendless,  s 

her  mind,  w 

came  fearful 

ttebed,Bh9 


ICTBTBBISS  OF  ▲  UOMVAAT* 


«i 


i 


lome  time  upon  general  fabjeots,  the  Superior  tfose, 
and,  taking  from  a  email  ndeboard  a  nchly  ent  de- 
canter of  old  wine,  with  some  glasee,  and  a  plate  of 
delioioui  Bpioed  cakes,  which  she  had  prepared  with 
her  own  hands,  she  placed  these  upon  a  table  which 
stood  in  front  of  the  sofa,  and  invited  the  General 
to  partake  of  them,  and  to  join  her  in  a  game  at 
chess,  of  which  she  knew  he  was  passionately  fond, 
and  for  whiohshe  had  arranged  the  materials 
before  him. 

They  thus  occupied  themselves  until  the  convent 
dock  tolled  the  hour  of  eleven,  when  the  Father 
General,  pleading  a  headache,  and  affectionately  as 
well  as  most  gracefully  saluting  the  Mother  Supe- 
rior, asked  leave  to  retire  to  his  own  apartment, 
wMch  was  situated  on  the  first  floor,  and  elegantly 
famished.  This  the  latter  rather  ungraciously 
granted^  with  an  air  which  showed  that  she  was 
disappomted  ;  and  the  priest  retired. 

Meanwhile,  the  note  had  been  handed  to  Sister 
Theresa,  by  the  deformed  nun,  and  had  greatly  ex- 
cited her  mind  by  its  contents. 

"Meet me  in  the  garden,  near  the  plum  tree, 
alone,  at  midnight :"— she  repeated,  for  tiie  twen- 
tieth time,  as  she  sat  in  her  room,  with  the  note  in 
her  hand,  thinking  over  its  contents. 

"What  can  he  mean  V  And  then,  as  the  thought 
that  his  intentions  towards  her  might  be  those  of 
evil  flashed  across  her  mind,  she  burst  into  tears,  ex- 
claiming— 

"  What  have  I  done  or  said,  that  could  lead  him 
to  think  so  meanly  of  me  P" 

'*  Have  I  not  spumed  the  base  overtures  of  my 
own  confessor,  Father  Jerome  P" 

"  Gracious  heaven,  into  what  hands  have  I  fallen  ?'* 

Here  a  sense  of  her  helpless  condition,  as  a  poor, 
friendless,  and  unprotected  nun,  was  forced  upon 
her  mind,  with  such  terrible  conviction,  that  she  be- 
came fearfully  agitated ;  and  throwing  herself  upon 
m  bed,  Bh9  wept  as  if  her  yery  heart  woiUd  brwCt 


1     :!     M     :<■    i. 


f  «  ■'■ 


■  i 


62 


ICTBSBBUB  OV  ▲  OOKVElffT. 


<<  Oibat  I  hadknown  all  this,"  she  said,  her Toi«i 
broken  by  aobs— *'  before  I  took  the  tows  I— How 
sadly  baye  I  been  deceiyed  !*'  { 

^  O,  what  shall  I  do  P  Where  shall  I  hide  myself? 
My  honour,  my  life,  is  hunted  b^  those  who  made 
me  yow  eternal  chastity  and  purity!" 

**  But  recently  I  was  degraded  to  the  condition  o! 
a  menial,  I  knownot  why ;  and  now  this  priest,  as 
if  he  were  master  of  an  eastern  harem,  and  I  bit 
Georgian  slaye,  bids  me  meet  him  alone  in  the  gar* 
den  at  midnight !   Good  God,  what  does  this  mean  P" 

*'  0  that  I  were  once  more  within  reach  of  my  dear 
father !  how  gladl^r  would  I  fly  to  himf orprotection !" 

She  again  burst  into  tears,  and  wept  most  bitter- 
ly :  then,  as  a  sudden  thought  occurred  to  her  mind, 
she  stiu:ted  up,  exclaiming— 

'*  It  may  be  so.  Perhaps  Sister  Martina  may  have 
intimated  to  him  that  1  haye  been  badly  treated, 
and,  in  order  to  know  all  about  it,  without  the  dan- 
ger of  being  interrupted  by  the  Mother  Superior,  or 
m  order  to  keep  her  from  knowiof^:  that  he  had  spokea 
to  me  on  the  subject,  he  may  haye  selected  this  time 
and  place  with  a  yiew  to  secresy.    It  must  be  so." 

The  more  she  thought  about  the  matter,  the  more 
fully  oonyinced  she  became  that  this  was  the  true 
state  of  the  case ;  and  while  she  felt  grateful  to  the 
good  Father,  as  she  now  called  him,  when  she  re- 
garded him  as  intending  to  befriend  her,  she  re- 
proached herself  for  haying  thought  so  ungenerous- 
ly  of  him.  The  idea  of  being  reyenged  on  the  Mo- 
uier  Superior,  dried  up  her  tears ;  and  she  determin- 
ed to  keep  the  appointment. 

It  now  wanted  but  a  few  minutes  to  twelye ;  and, 
wrapping  herself  up  in  a  heayy  shawl,  to  guard 
against  the  chilly  midnight  air,  and,  with  her  heart 
beating  wildly  within  her  breast,  she  left  her  room, 
and  noiselessly  creeping  down  the  great  stairway, 
pauiing  at  almost  eyery  step,  as  the  fancied  that 
•omeone  had  disooyeredber;  while  she  started  al 


ieyeryp»atin 
j^ckdoorof  tb 

.lock,  she  turn 
slowly  opening 
to  ayoidany  c 
her  movements 
any  one  was  pj 
drawing  the  d< 
Bilent  step,  has 
I  light  night,  but 
On  arriving 
ed  in  the  note 
was  no  one  the 
conclude  that  i 
ous  plot,  when 
ly  approachinc 
his  hand,  in  tm 
«  Thanks,  Si 
confidence  in  ^ 

that  you  wo« 

hour;  and  tha 

nityof  doing 

peroeiviug  tha 

*<  fear  not,  my 

protect  you  fr< 

Beassured  1 

he  sincere ;  an 

givingswithx 

now  seemed 

tiianked  him 

"Ihaveev 

ther  General, 

tray  that  con: 

"Never," 

perceived  th< 

f eetings  of  tl 

bled,  nor  see 

her  hand  fro 

"^Ihaveh 


XtBIBBIBS  Of  A  OONTBirf . 


6S 


ti 


lO  very  pantingi  of  her  own  bosom,  she  reached  the 
,  jok  door  of  the  hall ;  where,  finding  the  key  in  the 
.ook,  she  turned  it  with  great  caution,  and  then, 
slowly  opening  one  side  of  the  folding  leayes,  so  as 
to  avoid  any  oreakinf;  which  might  give  notice  of 
her  movements,  and  looking  out  intently  to  see  if 
any  one  was  passing  about,  she  went  forth,  quietly 
drawing  the  door  to  behind  her,  and,  with  quick  and 
silent  Btep,  hastened  to  the  garden.  It  was  a  moon* 
light  night,  but  hazy  and  somewhat  cloudy. 

On  arriving  at  the  spot  which  had  been  designate 
ed  in  the  note,  she  was  surprised  to  find  that  there 
was  no  one  there  but  herself ;  and  she  was  about  to 
conclude  that  she  was  the  victim  of  some  treacher- 
ous plot,  when  she  beheld  the  Father  General  rapid- 
Ijr  approaching  her.  On  reaching  her,  he  extended 
hi|  hand,  in  the  kindest  manner,  saying,  as  he  did  so : 

**  Thanks,  Sister  Theresa,  for  this  evidence  of  your 
confidence  in  your  Father  General.  I  washidf  alraid 
that  you  would  not  meet  me  here,  st  this  lonely 
hour;  and  that  I  should  be  deprived  of  the  opportu- 
nity of  doing  you  a  kindness.  But,"  added  he, 
perceiving  that  she  trembled  as  he  spoke  to  her, 
*'  fear  no^  my  child ;  I  mean  you  no  harm ;  but  will 
protect  you  from  all  injury  and  insult." 

Beassured  by  these  words,  which  she  believed  to 
be  sincere ;  and  feeling  ashamed  of  her  previous  mis- 
givings with  regard  to  the  Father's  intentions,  whi(^ 
now  seemed  to  be  so  wholly  unfounded,  the  nun 
thanked  him  for  his  kind  consideration,  and  said— > 

<<  I  have  every  confidence  in  the  honour  of  theFa« 
ther  General,  and  cannot  suppose  that  he  would  be- 
tray that  confidence." 

"Never,"  replied  the  wily  Jesuit,  who  quickly 
perceived  the  change  that  had  been  wrought  in  the 
feeUngs  of  the  trusting  girl ;  for  she  no  longer  trem- 
bled, nor  seemed  dispoMd,  as  at  first,  to  withdraw 
her  hand  from  his. 

^  I  have  heard/'  he  continued,  <'no  matter  how. 


■  f 


1 


»f  ^1 


it  mnBXBBXss  or  ▲  oomrBMT. 

nor  from  whom,  of  the  omel  oonduot  of  the  Saperioi 
towaids  yon,  reoently ;  and  I  wish  you  to  tell  me,  if 
yoa  can,  why  she  did  so  F" 

**  I  know  not/'  replied  Sister  Theresa.  **  I  hare 
endeaToured  faithfully  to  perform  every  known 
duty,  and  to  comply,  as  far  as  I  could,  with  every 
rule  of  the  institution.  I  have  always  treated  the 
Mother  Superior  with  marked  respect;  rendering 
instant  ohedience  to  her  every  command ;  and  I  can- 
not imagine  why  she  suddenly,  and  without  assign- 
ing any  reason  whatever  for  it,  inflicted  so  severe  a 
punishment  upon  me,  and  degraded  me  so  in  the 
eyes  of  the  whole  convent.  Had  the  punishment 
hieen  continued  for  a  short  time  longer,  I  should  have 
been  seriously  ill,  for  my  health  is  but  delicate  at  the 
best.** 

"  When  did  she  order  von  to  this  menial  service  P" 
asked  the  Father,  eagerly, 

"  On  the  very  day  that  you  left  the  convent,  on 
your  last  visit  before  the  present,"  replied  the  nun. 

*'  I  see  it  all,"  muttered  the  priest,  as  if  commun- 
ing with  his  own  thoughts ;  *'  it  is  as  plain  as  it  can 
be.  Poor  fool,  to  think  that  I  belong  to  her,  soul 
and  body,  and  that  I  cannot  be  civil  to  a  pretty  nun, 
but  that  instantly,  as  soon  as  my  back  is  turned, 
the  poor  nun  must  be  a  victim  ox  her  jealousy  and 
wrath.  Pshaw !"  he  continued,  as  if  still  talking  to 
himself;  '*  she  shall  suffer  for  this."  Then,  seem- 
ing to  recollect  himself,  he  said  to  Sister  Theresa. 

*' Never  mind.  I  am  your  friend  and  protector. 
I  have  the  right  and  the  power  to  shield  you  from 
oppression  and  from  insult ;  and,  should  your  feel- 
ings ever  be  outraged  again,  I  require  you  to  let  me 
know  it  at  once,  that  I  may  take  the  necessary  steps 
to  redress  the  wrong.  Meanwhile,  say  nothingi  but 
leave  this  matter  in  my  hands." 

**  I  know  not  howsdmdenUy  to  thank  yon  for 
your  kindness,**  responded  the  nun ;  her  heart  really 
touched  by  what  she  believed  to  bo  the  dncsKS 


ICTSTBBZBS  OT  ▲  OONVAMT* 


56 


ifrieiidBhip  of  the  Father  General,  and  fully  prepar* 
Ud  to  feel  idl  itsforoe,  hj  the  lonely  life  that  ihe  nad 
led— a  life  so  full  of  dieappointment  as  to  the  ex- 
peotatioDS  which  she  had  formed  when  entering  on 
the  religious  duties  of  a  nun^and,  with  the  tears 
Utanding  upon  her  oheek,  she  continued,  '*  but  if  you 
will  show  me  how  I  may  evince  my  gratitude,  I  will 
most  cheerfully  do  it." 

I  "  You  can  show  your  p^'fttitude,  Sister  Theresa,  by 
j  loving  me,''  replied  the  priest,  in  low  and  thrilling 
tones,  gently  putting  his  arm  around  her  waist,  and 
drawiug  her  to  him,  on  pretence,  as  he  said,  of  pro- 
tecting her  from  the  cool  night  air ;  but,  as  he  per- 
Iceivecrthat  she  shrank  from  his  embrace,  he  add  :<d, 

"Fear  not,  my  child  ;  I  love  you  too  well  to  moan 
lyou  any  harm. 

He  then  entered  into  a  lengthy  conversation  with 
her,  touching  her  studies,  her  employments,  and 
what  not  that  was  likely  to  interest  her  mina,  and 
inspire  her  with  confidence ;  and  then,  telling  her  it 
I  was  time  that  they  should  return  to  the  house,  he 
■  inquired  the  number  of  her  room,  and  its  position  in 
the  building;  saying  to  her  that,  on  the  following 
sight,  he  would  visit  her  there,  in  order  to  instruct 
I  her  how  to  spend  her  time  in  the  future,  so  as  to 
prepare  herself  to  occupy  the  position  of  Mother 
Superior,  in  her  own  turn,  when  she  should  be  a  lit- 
tle older  and  more  experienced. 

Meanwhile,  the  wily  priest  kept  his  arm  around 
Sister  Theresa,  and,  walking  thus  to  the  houie,  he 
gave  her  what  he  called  the  kiss  of  peace,  at  y^ixt" 
ing,  and  each  sought  their  own  room;  the  former 
feeling  assured  that  he  had  gained  a  victory ;  the 
latter,  as  she  had  never  done  before  in  rM  h^r  life ; 
her  soul  a  sea  of  tumultuous  emotion.  The  Fa- 
ther General  soon  fell  asleep,  and  dreamed  of  beau- 
tif  tti  nuns  and  bowers  of  roses ;  the  unhappy  Sister 
Theresa  laid  awake  for  hoursy  tossing  restlessly  npoii 
her  couch.   She  felt  that  she  was  caught  in  the  ooili 


1 

V 

1: 

M 

ff.; 

k<    '     i 

k.  ' 

I]-     ■ 

. 

\-  , 

:        :) 

.'    '  ■    ■  !! 

■:    ! 

"  • ! 


56 


inTBXSBXBS  OV  A  00'SmST» 


of  the  priest,  and  that  it  was  as  oselesi  for  her  to 
strofirirlo  against  what  seemed  to  he  her  ineyitable 
des&y.  as  for  tiie  poor  fly,  caught  in  the  meshes  of 
the  spider's  web,  to  attempt  to  escape  its  impending 
fate.  She  felt  that  she  was  powerless  in  the  hands 
of  an  all-powerf ol  foe ;  and,  though  she  deeply  re- 
gretted ha^ng  kept  the  appointment,  and  met  the 
Father  in  the  garden,  yet,  strange  to  say,  she  did  not 
after  all  wish  to  avoid  the  meeting  on  the  following 
night.    In  truth,  the  arch  magician  had  infused  his 

Eoison  into  her  young  soul ;  and  his  foul  necromancy 
ad  thrown  a  spell  upon  her.  which  she  no  longer 
desired,  or  had  the  strength,  to  break.  She  was 
doomed,  and  yet  she  trembled  not ;  she  was  in  chains, 
and  still  she  hugged  those  chains  to  her  breast,  and 
seemed  to  delight  in  Wearing  them.  The  priest  had 
silenced  her  monitory  fears ;  had  thrown  her  off  her 
guard ;  had  awaken^  feelings  of  gratitude,  which 
vwere  easily  transmuted  to  others  of  a  warmer  na- 
ture ;  and  the  hellish  work  was  well  nigh  completed 
•—the  consummation  waited  but  for  the  occasion. 

Oh,  ye  self-annointed,  self-exalted  priests,  that 
put  yourselves  *'  above  all  that  is  called  God,  or  that 
IS  worshipped;"  ** sitting  in  the  temple  of  Gk)d, 
showing  yourselves  that  ye  are  Gk>d ;"  '*  whose  com- 
ing is  after  the  working  of  Satan,  with  all  power, 
and  signs,  and  lying  wonders,  and  with  all  deoeiv- 
ableness  of  unrighteousness ;"  ye  "  false  prophets  f* 
ye ''  ravening  wolves  in  sheep's  clothing ;''  ye  "  blind 
guides,"  that  "  compass  sea  and  land  to  make  one 
proselyte ;  and,  when  he  is  made,  ye  make  him  two- 
fold more  the  child  of  hell  than  yourselves;"  ye 
smooth-faced  hypocrites  that  devour  virgin  inno- 
cence, **  and,  for  a  pretence,  make  long  prayers;'*  ye 
priests,  that  work  your  damning  deeds,  in  the  dark 
shrouding  of  the  midnight  hour;  and  then,  with 
unblushing  countenance,  go  forth  in  broad  day,  and 
look  honesty  in  the  eye ;  when  the  disparting  veil  of 
eternity  shall  be  drawi\  aaidei  and  m  judgment 


SCTSTEBIBS  Or  A  OOKVENT. 


67 


trump  Bball  Bummon  you  to  stand  before  the  dread 
bar  of  Him  whose  searching  gaze  now  penetrates* 
your  convent  walls,  yonr  monastic  cells,  your  dark 
hiding-holes,  where  works  **  themystery  of  miquity," 
and  reads  all  your  damnable  crimes  as  thougn  they 
stood  emblazoned  in  the  face  of  the  noontide  sun  ; 
ah !  how  will  ye  (juail  then !  how  will  ye  seek  to  es- 
cape the  fearful  inspection  of  that  hour,  in  the  pre- 
sence of  a  congregated  universe,  and  unbidden  try 
to  hide  yourselves,  and  your  hellish  deeds,  in  the 
deptiis  of  eternal  night!  But  know,  *' ye  serpents, 
ye  generation  of  vipers,  ye  cannot  escape  the  dam* 
nation  of  hell ;"  '*  the  Iiord  shall  consume  you  with 
the  spirit  of  ms  mouth,  and  shall  destroy  you  with 
the  brightness  of  his  coming."  Babylon  "ahallbe 
utterly  burned  with  fire ;  for  strong  is  the  Lord  Gk>d 
who  judgeth  her." 


HI  ,        , 


CHAPTER  Xn. 

Interregnum— The  fiimily  of  Mr.  Moreton— Discussion  on 
the  education  given  In  boarding-schools. 

Thb  reader  must  now  suffer  himself  to  be  carried 
forward  over  an  interval  of  three  years,  and  be  pre- 
sented to  an  interesting  family  circle,  whose  mem- 
bers will  have  a  large  share  in  the  scenes  of  ihe  fol- 
lowing pages. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Moreton  were  the  parents  of  an  in- 
teresting family,  consisting  of  two  sons  and  three 

daughters,  living  in  the  town  of ,  in  the  state  of 

Pennsylvania,  about  eighty  mUes  from  the  city  of 
New  York. 

Mary,  the  eldest  of  the  five  children,  was  a  hand- 
some brunette,  just  entered  into  her  seventeenth 
year,  and  had  been  wholly  educated  in  her  native 
town.  Julia*  the  next  in  age,  was  fourteen,  and 
gifted  with  strong  natural  powers  of  mind,  but  not 


224 


IS 


i-^i  ■,'-  ' '* 


..f\ .....     i 


^:  i- 


'is 


'!;:.-;i„  n 


p, 

'i! 


ffS 


2AT8TEBISS  OF  ▲  OONVBNT. 


as  handsome  as  her  sister  Mary.  Mrs.  Moreton  was 
a  ladj  of  excellent  judgment  and  refined  manners, 
but,  fike  her  husband.—- who  was  a  merchant|  in  very 
oomfortable  ohroumstances— not  a  member  of  any 
church.  Having  received  a  better  education  than 
her  eompanion,  she  had,  in  matters  of  this  sort,  ac- 
quired considerable  influence  over  him ;  while,  with 
tne  sagacity  and  prudence  of  a  business  man,  he 
looked  narrowly  to  the  expenses,  and  was,  to  a  cer- 
tain extent,  liable  to  the  charge  of  penuriousness; 
yet  he  dearly  loved  his  family,  and  was  willing  to 
mmx  any  reasonable  outla}[,  for  anything  he  thought 
would  promote  their  happiness,  or  secure  their  ad- 
vancement in  life. 

One  winter  eyening,  after  tea,  when  the  young 
children  had  been  sent  to  the  nursery,  Mary  having 
jone  to  a  party  at  a  neighbour's,  and  Julia  being 
seated  at  a  table  by  herself,  engaged  in  preparing 
her  lessons  for  the  next  day,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  M!oreton 
were  sitting  in  their  snug  back  parlour,  by  a  blazing 
fire,  talking  over  domestic  matters,  when  the  follow- 
ing conversation  occurred  between  them : 

''I  think,  Mr.  Moreton,  that  we  ought  to  send  Ju- 
lia to  a  good  boarding  school.  She  is  fast  growing 
up  to  womanhood;  her  teachers  here  cannot  in- 
struct her  much  further;  and,  besides,  there  are 
many  advantages  to  be  enjoyed  atsucn  a  school, 
which  she  cannot  possibly  have  at  home." 

''Why  sop  Have  we  not  good  teachers  in  our 
town,  as  good  as  any  where  else  P  I  am  sure  that 
Mr.  Treaawell  has  advanced  Julia  very  rapidly ;  and 
I  heard  you  tell  Mrs.  Winslow,  the  other  day,  that 
she  had  learned  more,  in  the  same  length  of  time, 
under  his  instruction,  than  from  any  other  teacher 
to  whom  she  had  ever  been  sent." 

'*  Y«ry  true,  my  dear,  and  yet  I  discover  that  Ja« 
lia  ii  greatly  interrupted  in  her  studies,  by  the  oom- 
pany  which  her  sister  receives ;  and  when  viiitors 
are  in  Ihe  drawing-room  with  Mary,  Julia  seems  to 


ICTSTBfilBS  Olf  A  OomTBNT. 


69 


think  it  very  hard,  indeed,  that  she  must  sit  up  stairs, 
and  study.  I  fi^a,  too,  that  her  head  is  fall  of  dress, 
and  jewellery,  and  parties,  and  beanz,  young  as  she 
18 ;  and,  when  she  passes  through  the  streets  on  her 
way  to  school,  she  sees  a  great  doaJ  to  divert  her 
mind  from  her  books.  Besides,  these  mixed  schools 
may  do  well  enough  for  younger  children,  but  Julia 
is  too  old  to  go  any  longer  to  one  where  bojrs  and 
girls  are  taught  together.  In  short,  I  think  it  high 
time  that  she  should  be  sent  from  home,  to  a  good 
boarding  school,  for  at  least  two  years." 

**  Well,  but  I  do  not  see  what  you  would  gain  by 
sending  her  to  such  a  school,  even  on  your  own 
showing.  Will  she  not  be  as  fond  of  dress  there  as 
here,  and  wUl  she  not  find  quite  as  much  to  distract 
her  mind  from  study  P" 

**  Certainly  not.  In  a  well-regulated  boarding 
school,  every  thing  is  taken  care  of,  and  provided 
for,  even  to  the  minutest  details.  Extravagance  in 
dress,  and  fondness  of  display,  are  discouraged  as 
muchaspossible ;  and,  indeed,  there  are  no  incentives 
or  opportunities  for  either,  since  the  young  ladies 
are  seldom  seen  upon  the  streets,  and  the  visits  of 
young  men  are  forbidden :  while,  on  the  other  hand, 
by  means  of  a  systematic  arrangement  of  time— a 
useful  occupation  being  found  for  every  hour ; — the 
presence  of  teachers  of  the  very  best  abilities,  who 
have  adopted  the  business  as  a  profession,  and  not 
as  a  merely  temporary  means  of  support ;  and  the 
stimulus  to  study  which  is  furnished  by  the  comi>e« 
tition  of  a  number  of  schoolmates,  for  the  honours 
of  the  institution,  a  healthful  ambition  is  excited, 
and  habits  are  formed,  which  not  only  greatly  faci- 
litate the  ac(}uirements  of  a  thorough  education,  but 
are  of  essential  service  in  after  days,  when  sohooU 
books  are  laid  aside,  and  the  sterner  duties  of  life 
make  hourly  demands  upon  our  indastry,  patience, 
and  fortitude." 

*'  And  still  it  seems  to  me  that,  if  the  same  system 


*        0 


«d 


HYSIBBIES  07  ▲  OOITVBNT. 


and  disoipline  were  established  at  home,  which  you 
Bay  are  to  be  met  with  in  these  boarding  schools,  and 
whose  importance  X  readily  admit,  the  same  results 
mightbesecnredy  and  certainly  atmuoh  less  expense.'' 
"Impossible,  Mr.  MoretonI  how  can  I,  in  the 
midst  of  home  distractions,  and  with  such  a  family 
as  I  have,  adopt  any  such  course  P  The  house  is  to 
be  kept ;  the  younger  children  are  to  be  attended 
to ;  company  to  be  entertained ;  visits  to  be  return- 
ed ;  Mary  requires  a  large  share  of  my  time  and 
care  ;  for  ner  education,  conducted  entirely  at  home, 
is  exceedingly  defective ;  and  this  reminds  me  of  one 
most  impoiSant  advantage  that  is  derived  from  these 
echools,— -the  early  formation  of  habits  of  aelf-rdU 
owctf.  Now,  you  know  what  a  baby  Marj  is;  and 
yet  she  is  seventeen.  She  cannot  move  without  me. 
All  dav  long  it  is, '  Ma,  show  me  how  to  do  this  ;'— 
'  Ma,  do  go  to  such  a  place  ^th  me,  or  out  shop- 

Sing;' — 'Ma,  will  y^u  fix  m;|rhair,  or  adjust  my 
ress  P— *  Ma,  will  you  just  go  mto  the  parlour  with 
me  to  tee  my  company  r  I  cannot  go  alone.'  I  do 
verily  believe  that  it  would  be  the  same  thing  if  she 
were  married,  and  that  she  would  not  be  willing  to 

So  to  housekeeping  without  me.      It  is  not  so  with 
[iss  Bamsey,  or  Miss  Paterson,  who  were  both 
playmates  of  Mary's,  when  they  were  children,  and 

?ou  know  that  they  were  educated  at  boarding  schools, 
["hey  were  amiable,  modest,  and  accomplished  young 
ladies;  and. yet  they  make  their  own  dresses ;  assist 
their  mother  in  keeping  house  ;  are  handy  at  almost 
everv  thing ;  are  always  self-possessed  ana  agreeable 
in  their  manners ;  and,  for  all  I  can  see,  love  their 
parents  just  as  fondly  as  Mary  does  hers ;  while  they 
are  not  dependent  upon  their  mammas,  as  she  is  upon 
me.  I  do  not  know  what  Mary  would  do  if  I  were 
to  be  taken  awav  from  hery  or  what  the  will  do 
when  she  is  mamed." 

"  Well,  my  dear,  I  see  you  have  thought  a  great 
deal  more  about  these  imngs  than  I  have ;  and  I 


1CYSTBBIB8  OF  ▲  COSTBXIT* 


61 


am  therefore  willing  to  try  the  ezperiment,  next 
sprinff,  for  one  session.  If  tne  result  is  satisfactory, 
we  will  continue  Julia  at  some  good  boarding-school 
until  she  graduates ;  if  not,  she  must  come  homCi 
and  finish  her  education  here." 

<<  But,  Mr.  Morton,  believe  me,  that  is  not  the  waj 
to  try  the  experiment,  as  vou  call  it ;  it  does  not  ax- 
ford  time  enough  to  do  the  matter  justice;  and  I 
really  believe  that  one  session  only  would  be  botii 
time  and  money  thrown  away.  Send  her  with  the 
expectation  of  continuing  for  one  year,  or  not  at  all." 

"Be  it  so,  then;  but  where  snail  we  send  her? 
Have  you  made  choice  of  any  school,  in  your  mind  P" 

'*  I  have  been  thinking  of  two  schools ;  but  really 
80  far  as  I  have  any  means  of  judging,  there  ap- 
pears to  be  but  little,  if  any,  differei^ce  between 
them.  Both  have  their  ministers  of  high  standing, 
who  have  employed,  as  assistants,  the  best  teachers, 
I  am  told,  within  their  reach  ;  and  have  equal  faci- 
lities, I  suppose,  for  the  education  of  those  who  may 
be  sent  to  them.  The  one  is  at  Philadelphia,  and  the 
other  near  New  York ;  and,  as  the  former  is  rather 
more  convenient  fo«*  us,  as  well  as  cheaper  than  the 
other,  I  should  prefer  it : — besides,  it  is  in  our  own 
State." 

'*  Ah!— these  Protestant  schools  are  too  expensivo 
for  me,  my  dear ;  I  cannot  afford  to  send  Julia  to 
one  of  them.  Why  not  send  her  to  one  of  the  Ca- 
tholic schools?" 

"  Mr.  Morton,  you  astonish  me  I— Send  her  to  a 
Catholic  school!  Would  you  have  our  Julia  to  bo 
made  a  Catholic  ?" 

**  And  why,  pray,  should  that  be  the  result  ?  I  do 
not  see  that  it  follows,  as  a  necessary  result." 

''  It  may  not  as  a  necessary  result,  but  it  appears 
to  me  to  be  a  very  natural  one.  I  must  confess  that 
my  Protestant  education  inclines  me  to  look  upon 
Bomish  institutions  with  a  very  suspicious  eye ;  and 
my  observation  in  life  has  but  oonfomed  my  jureju- 


^^';., 

L.    . 

^J,.:| 

-  ■  .     n 

■    \ 

.  I'   , 


^    62 


1IT8TEBIES  OF  A  COKVJUIT. 


dioe  on  this  subject,  if  raejudioe  it  can  be  properly 
termed.    Did  not  Miss  Williams,  after  haTing  been 
at  a  Catholio  school  for  about  a  vear^  write  home  to 
her  mother,  for  permission  to  be  baptized  by  a  priest, 
and  join  the  church  ?    And  you  recollect  that  Miss 
Beaumont,  when  at  our  house,  on  her  way  to  tiie 
nunnery  school,  where  she  had  been  for  a  year  or 
two,  told  you  that  she  believed  the  Boman  Catholic 
to  be  the  only  true  religion  ;  giying  as  her  reason 
that  it  was  more  probable  that  the  translation  of  the 
Bible,  which  was  made  by  the  Pope  and  his  Cardi- 
nals, should  be  truer  than  that  made  by  one  man, 
King  James  of  England ;  and  when  you  asked  her 
where  she  had  got  that  precious  piece  of  informa- 
tion, she  replied  that  sister  Agatha  had  told  her  so. 
And  yet  the  parents  of  both  uiese  young  ladies  are 
strict  ftotestants,  and  members  of  the  Fiesbyterian 
Church.     Ton,  doubtless,  remember,  too,  to  haye 
heard,  also,  of  a  young  lady,  whose  name  I  do  not 
recollect,  but  who  was  the  daughter  of  Protestant 
parents,  and  who,  having  graduated  at  a  Catholic 
achool,  determined  to  become  a  nun,  and  refused  to 
leave  the  institution,  even  to  pay  a  farewell  visit  to 
her  friends,  before  separating  herself  for  ever  from 
them.    Indeed  I  have  never  conversed  with  Protes* 
tants  who  had  been  educated  by  Catholic  teachers, 
that  would  suffer  one  word  to  be  said,  in  their  hear- 
ing, in  disparagement  of  that  church.    Now  all  this 
confirms  me  in  the  fear  that,  if  our  daughter  should 
be  sent  to  a  Catholic  school,  she  will  either  become 
a  member  of  that  faith,  or  be  so  weakened  in  her 
attachment  to  her  own,  as  seriously  to  be  injured  by 
it,  if,  indeed,  the  result  do  not  tend  to  infidelity." 

^  Well,  my  dear,  you  are  certainly  very  eloquent 
on  the  subject,  and  yet  you  have  failed  to  convince 
me  that  your  fears  have  anv  other  foundation  than 
prejudice;  and  while,  if  I  thought  there  was  any 
real  danger,  I  should  be  quite  at  unwillhig  as  your- 
self to  expose  Julia  to  it,  1  am  oonvincedi  I  must 


UTSXEBIBS  OV  A  OOMVKMV. 


es 


i 


ye  my  pref  erenoe  to  that  sohool  which  ooitsthe 
.mt9_proTided  the  edaoational  adyantages  are  equal, 
and  1  presame  they  are.  I  therefore  prefer  that 
Julia  should  go  to  the  nunnery  school." 

"It  does  seem  to  me,  ICr.  Moreton,  that  there 
must  he  some  mistake  as  to  the  superior  cheapness 
of  the  Catholic  schools,  infactf  while  I  admit  that 
in  appearance  tiiey  are  so.  Are  you  sure  that  they 
are  cheaper  in  the  end  F'* 

"  I  have  seen  and  comjpared  the  circulars  put  forth 
by  both  sides ;  and  certfunly  so  far  as  these,  in  their 
respeotiye  statements  of  terms,  &o.,  afford  proper 
data  upon  which  to  form  an  opinion,  the  Oatholic 
schools  seem  to  have  the  decided  advantage :  but  I 
am  aware  that,  after  all,  it  is  exceedingly  difficult 
to  arrive  at  the  truth  of  the  matter  in  this  way.  The 
only  sore  method  of  determining  the  ouestion,  is  to 
compare  the  bill  as  made  out  and  paid  at  the  dose 
of  the  sessions." 

"  Yes— and  I  know  that  many  parents  have  been 
greatly  disappointed  when  they  called  for  their  bills, 
and  found  them  so  much  higher  than  they  had  ex- 
pected, by  reason  of  extra  charges^  as  more  than  to 
ejiual  the  difference  in  the  apparent  cost  of  educa- 
tion at  these  Catholic  schools,  as  set  forth  in  these 
circulars.  And  then,  there  is  such  a  thinff,  you 
know,  as  finding  a  cheap  article  of  little  real  value 
after  you  have  bought  it,  when  a  small  addition  to 
the  outlay  at  the  time  of  purchase  would  have  bought 
one  infimtely  superior,  and  of  permanent  worth. 

**  Well,  my  dear,  it  grows  late :  suppose  we  de- 
fer the  further  consideration  of  this  matter  for  a 
few  days,  until  I  shall  return  from  New  York, 
where  I  must  go,  next  week,  for  goods." 

So  saying,  the  subject  was  dropped  for  the  pres* 
ent ;  and,  Mary  having  returned  from  the  party,  af- 
ter a  lively  conversation  upon  the  incidents  ox  the 
evening  that  she  had  spent  at  their  neighbour^Si 
the  family  retired  for  the  nighU 


;               ■     t 

i 

1 

i. 

:                   ! 

•       ,                                          f 

f               ; 

\ 

I 


^■ 


j.  ■  Y- 


64 


3CYBTBBIB8  OF  A  OOMTBNT. 


OHAPTBB  Xm. 

Mr.  Moreton  yisits  New  Tork— His  conversation  with  Mr. 
Vanduflon— Its  effect  upon  Mr.  Moreton— Mr.  Yandus- 
en's  letter  to  the  Mother  Superior. 

DUBINO  the  following  week,  Mr.  Moreton  wentto 
New  York,  to  purchase  goods ;  and,  while  sitting 
in  tiie  counting-room  of  Messrs.  Yandusen  and  Oo., 
whom  he  dealt  with  largely,  waiting  for  his  bills  to 
be  made  out,  tiie  senior  partner  remarked  to  him— 

*^  By  the  way,  Mr.  Moreton,  you  have  a  family, 
haveyou  not P" 

'*  Xes,  sir,"  was  the  reply—"  a  wife  and  five  child- 
ren; three  of  whom  are  daughters." 

"  Where  are  you  educating  them  ?"  asked  the  mer* 
chant. 

*'  The  oldest  has  finished  her  education,"  returned 
Mr.  Moreton — "  but  the  next  oldest  ought  to  be  sent 
to  a  boarding-school  somewhere,  and  I  must  confess 
I  am  greatly  at  a  loss  where  to  place  her.  I  would 
like  to  send  her  to  the  Catholic  school  at  Bethle- 
hem, because  it  is  so  much  cheaper  than  our  Pro- 
testant schools ;  but  Mrs.  Moreton  is  so  opposed  to 
trusting  her  daughter  in  the  hands  of  the  Catholics, 
that  I  do  not  like  to  say  positively  she  shall  go 
there.'' 

*'It  is  very  natural,  indeed,  that  the  women 
should  feel  thus  opposed  to  these  Catholic  schools. 
My  wife,  for  instance,  was  violently  opposed  to 
them;  but  they  are,  after  all,  the  best  schools,  my 
dear  sir,  depend  upon  it.  Our  oldest  daughter  has 
been  for  two  vears  at  the  convent  school,  some  fifty 
milM  from  this  city ;  notwithstanding  the  opposi- 
tion of  her  mother,  who  reluctantly  yielded  to  mj 
wishes  in  the  matter;  and  I  assure  ^ou  that  she  is 
making  most  astonishing  progress  in  her  studies^ 


XT8TBBZE8  OV  A  CORTSMT* 


65    ^ 


Mrf.  YandaBeo,  finding  this  to  be  the  case,  has  be- 
come quite  reoonoiled,  and  now  sees  the  folly  of  her 
fonner  dislike  to  these  institutions." 

**  But  you  haveayery  excellent  boarding  school 
in  your  own  city,  I  am  told,  conducted  by  a  Fresby* 
tenan  minister;  I  should  have  thought  that  you 
would  have  patronized  that  school,  as  you  belong  to 
that  denomination/'  remarked  Mr.  Moreton,  in  an 
interroeatiye  tone. 

**  So  I  do  belong  to  that  denomination,  my  dear 
sir,  but  I  do  not  feel  as  if  I  were  under  any  obliga- 
tion, for  that  reason,  to  pay  fifty  per  cent,  more  for 
the  education  of  my  daughter  at  a  Fresbrterian 
school,  than  I  would  have  to  pay  at  one  belonging 
to  the  Oatholios.  These  Protestant  schools  are  too 
high  for  me,  Mr.  Moreton ;  I  cannot  stand  their  un- 
conscionable prices." 

"Thatis  just  what  I  told  Mrs.  Moreton;" — ^was 
the  reply,  in  a  tone  that  eyinced  the  gratification  of 
the  spesker  at  finding  that  he  was  not  mistaken  in 
his  views,  as  expressed  to  his  wife ;  for  he  was  ex- 
ceedingly tenacious  of  his  opinions—*'  but  she  was 
under  the  impression  that  the  extrcu  which  are 
charged  in  the  bills,  made  the  Catholic  schools  the 
most  expensive,  after  all." 
**  It  is  a  mistake,  my  dear  sir,  depend  upon  it," — 


after  two  years'  experience.' 

Mr.  Moreton  felt  perfectly  satisfied  upon  the 
point  of  en>ense,  but  asked  Mr.  Yandusen  to  till 
him,  candidly,  what  he  thought  about  the  efforts  of 
the  priests  and  nuns  to  proselyte  Protestant  child- 
nn  to  the  Bomish  faith ;  and  whether  he  had  any 
reason  to  believe  that  they  had  tampered  with  the 
relinous  faith  of  his  daughter. 

'*It  is  all  humbug,  sir ;"— replied  the  latter,  with 
some  warmth  of  manneri— *'  the  result  of  sectarian 


mi% 


r 


4    t 


I 


66 


jCYSTSmSS  OF  ▲  OONVIINT. 


faigotrr.  I  am  astonuihad,  m  a  praotioal  man,  that 
•ennble  people  Aonld  have  raised  such  a  hue  and 
erj  about  the  proselyting  disposition  of  the  Oatho- 
lies.  I  assure  you  that  I  do  not  believe  a  word  of  it." 

Mr.  Moreton  thanked  the  merchant  for  his  infor- 
mation, and  expressed  his  determination  to  send  his 
daughter,  the  next  spring,  to  the  Catholic  school  at 
Bethlehem. 

''But,"  replied  Mr.  Yandusen, '' is  not  that  too 
near  hoine,  sir  F  My  adyice  to  you  would  be,  not  to 
send  your  daughter  where  she  would  be  anxious  to 
come  home  every  week,  because  it  was  so  short  a 
distance  to  travel,  and  where  she  would  be  dissatis* 
fled  if  she  did  not  get  to  visit  her  friends  frequent- 
ly ;  but  to  place  her  at  school  at  such  a  distance  as 
to  make  it  inconvenient  for  her  to  go  home  oftener 
than  once  in  six  months,  since  her  mind  would  be 
undisturbed  hgr  the  proximity  of  her  relations,  and 
her  progress  m  her  studies  would  consequentiy  be 
the  greatw ;"  and  assured  Mr.  Moreton  that  he  con« 
sidmd  the  school  to  which  he  sent  his  own  daughter, 
the  very  best  in  all  the  country. 

Convinced  by  his  arguments,  Mr.  Moreton  thank- 
ed the  merchant  again,  and,  having  settled  his  bills, 
bade  him  farewell,  and  returned  to  the  hotel  where 
he  was  stopping. 

No  sooner  had  he  left  the  counting-room,  than 
Mr.  Yandusen,  with  great  ^lee  expressed  m  his 
ooontenance,  sat  down  at  his  desk,  and  wrote  the 
following  letter,  which  he  despatched  to  the  post 
office. 

«*  New  York,  December  6, 1810. 

'*  To  the  Mother  Superior  of  the  Convent  of  the 
^  Annunciation. 
*'  Dbab  Madax, 

'*  I  have  just  had  a  long  conversation  with  one  of 
my  customers,  a  Mr.  Charles  Moreton,  of  Fennsyl* 
vania.  He  is  a  wealthy  merchant,  having,  two 
daughters  to  be  educated;  one  of  whom  he  will  no 


1CT0TBBZSS  OF  ▲  COKYBNT. 


67 


donbt  send  to  yon  next  spring ;  and  the  other,  in  due 
time,  if  he  should  be  pleased.  I  found  his  head  ftdl 
of  the  usual  notions  about  extraa,  and  praaelffting^ 
and  all  that,  but  succeeded  in  sweepiuff  the  cobwebs 
from  his  brain.  I  think  jrou  may  certunly  calculate 
upon  his  bringing  you  his  daughter  in  the  spring. 
When  she  arrives,  you  will  credit  my  account  wiui 
twenty  dolUurs.  according  to  our  contract.  I  hope 
my  daughter's  health  is  good,  and  that  she  progresses 

well  in  her  studies.    The  affair  of  the comes 

on  swimmingly.    I  shall,  without  doubt,  get  that 
money  secured  to  the  order. 
<*  With  the  highest  consideration,  I  remain 

*'  Your  unworthy  servant, 

«  CONSAD  YANDUBBN.'* 


CHAPTEB  XIV. 

Hr.  Moreton'fi  sanguine  partiality  to  Oatholio  schools^ 
Mrs.  Moreton's  fears  and  doubts— ^ulia  sent  as  a  board- 
er  to  the  Convent  of  the  Annunciation— Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Moreton  attend  the  first  ezamination^Engaging  man- 
ners of  the  Mother  Superior— Extras— The  parents  re- 
ceive alarming  intelligence— Distress  and  anxiety— Mr. 
Moreton  hastens  to  snatoh  his  child  fh>m  her  impend- 
ing doom— Arrives  at  the  Convent,  and  demands  to  see 
his  daughter— Falsehood  and  treachery  of  the  Mother 
Superior— Julia  rushes  into  her  father's  arms,  and  is 
borne  by  him  trom  the  hated  Convent. 

Whbn  Mr.  Moreton  returned  home,  he  related  to 
his  wife  the  conversation  which  had  taken  place  be* 
tween  himself  and  Mr.  Yandusen;  laying  great 
stress  upon  the  fact  that  the  latter  was  a  member  of 
the  Presbyterian  Ohurch,— than  which  none  had  a 
moxe  inveterate  hostility  towards  the  Catholics,  or 
had  done  more  to  expose  the  errors  of  their  docteines, 
or  the  enormity  of  their  practices ;  and,  as  he  said, 
it  spoke  volumes  in  refutation  of  the  slanders  which 


'  ■»  ;. 


...    X  l^ 


68 


K78TBBXBS  OF  A  OOMTBNT. 


had  been  heaped  upon  the  Catholics,  that  a  Firesby. 
terian  ehould  bear  such  testimony  as  he  had  bono 
to  the  ezoellenoe  of  the  convent  school,  the  cheap* 
ness  of  its  tenns,  and  the  absence  of  intention  or  ef. 
fort  to  proselyte  the  children  of  Protestant  parents. 
Withal,  the  fact  that  he  was  sendiug  his  own  daugh- 
ter to  this  same  school,  and  his  highly  respectable 
standing  as  a  merchant,  forbade  the  idea  of  any  in- 
sincerity, or  want  of  sufficient  intelligence  upon  the 
subject. 

Still  Mrs.  Moroton  was  not  convinced,  in  spite  of 
all  this  array  of  imposing  testimony  ;  and,  while  her 
husband  gently  insinuated  that  she  was  very  obsti- 
nate in  her  prejudices,  she  could  not  wholly  rid  her 
mind  of  apprehension,  or  be  brought  to  believe  that 
there  was  no  real  danger  incurred  in  sending  Julia 
to  a  Catholic  school. 

But  fiiidiug  that  it  was  useless  to  argue  the  mat* 
ter  any  further  with  Mr.  Moreton,  she  reluctantly 
yielded  the  noint ;  hoping  that  she  might  be  able  to 
fortify  Julia  s  mind  so  strongly  against  the  wiles  and 
sophistry  of  a  crafty  priesthood,  so  that  she  might 
saxely  pass  the  fiery  ordeal  which  she  fully  believed 
was  about  to  be  placed  before  her  child ;  and  whes, 
in  the  followin^if  spring,  the  time  fixed  for  the  de- 
parture of  Julia  with  her  father  for  the  convent 
school,  arrived ;  and  the  vehicle  which  bore  them 
away,  receded  from  her  view,  she  returned  from  the 
street  door  into  her  sitting  room,  with  a  heavy  heart, 
feeling  as  though  a  dark  cloud,  surcharged  with  evil, 
had  gathered  over  herself  and  familv. 

On  his  return,  after  having  placed,  Julia  at  school, 
his  wife  had  a  thousand  anxious  questions  to  be  an- 
swered ;  all  of  which  he  answered  so  rea^y,  and 
with  such  apiMirent  satisfaction  to  himself,  that  har 
fears  were  ouieted,  and  hope  gained  the  ascendant. 
He  informed  her  tiiat,  on  their  arrival  at  tiie  con* 
vent,  after  a  fatiguing  but  rather  pleasant  journey 
of  four  days,  the  Mother  Superiori  whom  be  repn- 


M73TSBZBS  07  A  OONVBNT. 


M 


lented  as  a  loyely  Frenoh  woman,  in  the  prime  of 
life,  and  of  most  elegant  manners,  received  him  with 
the  greatest  kindness,  and  throwing  her  arms 
around  Jnlia,  kissed  her  affectionately,  welcoming 
her  to  the  institution,  and  promising  to  be  a  mother 
to  her,  while  she  continued  there ;  that  Julia  had 
found  one  or  two  old  acquaintances  among  the  pu- 
pils, and  seemed  to  be  satisfied ;  and  that,  on  his 
expressing  a  wish  that  his  daughter's  principles 
should  in  no  way  be  interfered  with,  she  assured 
him,  in  the  most  frank  and  positive  manner,  that  he 
need  not  entertain  any  fears  on  that  subject,  as  they 
had  no  desire  to  make  proselytes  of  the  children  of 
Protestant  parents. 

**  In  short"  added  Mr.  Moreton,  *'  she  is  one  of  the 
most  agreeable  ladies  I  have  ever  met  with ;  and  I 
feel  w&  assured  that  our  daughter  is  placed  in  good 
hands." 

Five  months  passed  away,  and  the  summer  vaca- 
tion came  on.  Mr.  Moreton  and  his  lady  had  at* 
tended  the  examination ;  and,  although  Julia's  pro* 
gross  did  not  meet  their  exi>ectation,  vet  they  sup- 
posed that  this  might  be  attributed  to  the  novelty  of 
the  position  in  which  she  had  been  placed— away 
from  home,  among  strangers,  for  the  first  time  in 
her  life— and  they  indulged  the  hope  that  she  would 
do  better,  the  next  session. 

On  calling  for  his  bill,  he  was  surprised  to  find  that 
it  was  larger  than  he  had  anticipated.  There  was 
10  much  charged  as  an  extra  item  for  this,  and  so 
much  for  that ;  so  much  for  fuel,  and  for  room  rent, 
and  for  stationery,  and  for  medical  attendance,  al- 
though she  had  not  been  sick  an  hour  during  the 
entire  time  J  and  so  much  for  store  goods,  &c.; 
amounting  m  all  to  some  thirty  or  forty  ner  cent, 
more  than  he  had  expected.  Unwilling,  nowevery 
to  dispute  the  account ;  fascinated  as  he  was  by  the 
6l€|[ant  manners  of  the  Mother  Superior,  and  ffrati- 
fied  by  the  deference  and  respect  which  were  showu 


1 

',    j 

1 
1 

» 

1 

1 

.  f. 

1'^' 


70 


UYSTEBIES  OF  ▲  CONTENT. 


to  himself  and  wife,  by  all  the  inmates  of  the  family, 
he  paid  the  bill,  without  a  word  of  complaint ;  re- 
solying  in  his  own  mind,  that  for  the  fature,  he 
would  take  care  to  ayoid  all  extras,  by  fumiBbiog 
every  tbin^  from  home,  as  far  as  practicable,  and 
by  prohibiting  the  opening  of  store  accounts  for  his 
daughter's  use.  Besides,  he  prided  himself,  as  a  bu* 
siness  man,  upon  his  tact  and  foresight ;  and,  Mrs. 
Moreton  being  present,  when  the  settlement  was 
made  with  the  accountant,  though  she  was  engaged 
in  conversation  with  the  Mother  Superior,  he  was 
▼ery  unwilling  that  she  should  know  that  he  had 
been  outwitted ;  especially  when  so  much  had  been 
said  on  this  very  point,  prior  to  placing  Julia  in  the 
institution. 

Julia  appeared  pleased  to  revisit  her  home ;  bat 
her  mother  was  pained  to  find  that  she  did  not  mani- 
fest as  great  an  attachment  to  it,  as  before  leaving 
it  for  school ;  and  that  she  more  than  once  wished 
for  the  time  to  come  when  her  father  was  to  take 
her  back.  She  found,  too,  that  her  daughter  loved 
to  talk  of  the  Mother  Superior,  and  of  sister  this, 
and  sister  that,  frequently  extolling  their  great  kind- 
ness to  her,  their  piety,  and  their  happy  condition ; 
seeming  to  think  that  the  life  of  a  nun  was  the  very 
beau-ideal,  with  her,  of  human  happiness  on  earth. 
When  Mrs.  Moreton  would  attempt  to  combat  this 
notion,  she  found  Julia  disposed  to  be  wayward,  and 
to  resent  the  attempt  as  an  insult,  by  implication, 
offered  to  those  whom  she  so  highly  esteemed.  Know- 
ing her  impulsive  nature,  however,  and  bow  eveir 
novelty  that  pleased  her  was  wont  to  effect  her  mind, 
she  thought  this  a  mere  girlish  effervescnce  of  mo- 
mentaiy  excitement,  and  that  after  a  ^hile,  when 
the  novelty  had  worn  off,  she  would  see  things  in  a 
truer  light. 

At  length  came  the  day  for  Julia's  return  to 
school ;  and  her  mother,  having  given  her  much  ex* 
cellent  advice,  and  made  her  promise  to  write,  either 


to  herself  ox 

adieu.  Arr 
Julia  were  : 
kindness  to 
ception,  wh 
cordiality  ii 
former,  havi 
to  his  aaugl] 
himself  that! 
bills,  for  the 

The  secoi 
Julia's  lettei 
ing  with  her 
between  thai 
oome  home, 
venting  him 
anxiety  abov 
laritywith  i 
provement  h 
mdioated,  it 
for  the  third 

But  after 
months,  and 
themselves  u 
of  a  school  i 
tained,  beyoi 
my  he  had  g 
something  n 
for  theeduc 
would  have 
had  been  den 
travagant  in 
from  Julia,  w 
deep  axude^ 
Knat  length, 
rtyle  so  who! 
nomanythin 
P^oted  of  hurl 
written  it  hi 
of  others. 


HYSTSBTES  OF  A.  COKVENT. 


n 


to  herself  or  to  her  father,  once  a  fortnishty  bade  her 
adieu.  Arrived  at  the  conTent,  Mr.  Moreton  and 
Julia  were  received  with  similar  demonstrations  of 
kindness  to  those  which  had  marked  their  first  re- 
ception, while  there  seemed  to  be  more  of  familiar 
cordiality  in  the  attentions  paid  to  them;  and  the 
former,  having  given  the  necessary  instructions  as 
to  his  daughter's  expenses,  left  her ;  congratulating 
himself  that  he  had  effectually  guarded  against  heavy 
bills,  for  the  future. 

The  second  session  had  expired,  durin{|^  which 
Julia's  letters  had  been  received  regularly,  m  keep- 
ing  with  her  promise ;  and,  there  being  no  vacation 
between  that  and  the  ensuing  session,  she  did  not 
come  home,  her  father's  business  engagements  pre- 
venting him  from  going  to  her ;  but,  as  ner  mother's 
anxiety  about  her  was  greatly  quieted  by  the  regu- 
larity with  which  her  letters  arrived,  and  the  im- 
provement both  in  style  and  penmanship  which  they 
mdicated,  it  was  determined  that  she  should  remain 
for  the  third  term. 

But  after  Julia  had  been  thus  at  school,  fifteen 
months,  and  when  her  parents  were  congratulating 
themselves  upon  the  selection  which  they  had  made 
of  a  school  for  her^albeit  Mr.  Moreton  had  ascer- 
tained, beyond  all  question,  that  in  point  of  econo- 
my he  had  gained  nothing,  since  it  had  cost  him 
something  more,  at  this  professedly  cheap  school, 
for  the  education  of  his  daughter,  tous  far,  than  it 
would  have  cost  him  at  Protestant  scboolj.  which 
had  been  denounced  as  being  so  unconscionaoly  ex- 
travaffantin  their  charges;  a  letter  was  received 
from  Julia,  which  filled  their  minds  with  dismay  and 
deep  anxiety  for  the  future.  It  was  written  at 
gnat  length,  evidently  with  studied  care,  and  in  a 
style  so  wholly  different  from  her  former  letters,  or 
from  anything  that  might  have  been  reasonably  ex- 
pected of  her,  as  to  convince  them  that  she  had  not 
written  it  hsrself .  but  copied  it  from  the  diotation 
of  others. 


I: ' 


72 


inraTEBZss  of  x  oonvbnt. 


After  tlianking  her  parents,  in  very  measured 
terms,  for  their  oare  ana  affection  hitherto  mani- 
fested  tows^s  her,  and  particularly  for  haying 

JJaoed  her  at  the  convent  school,  where  she  had  en- 
oyed  so  rare  advantage,  and  spent  the  happiest  pe- 
riod of  her  existence— she  proceeded  to  state  that, 
without  any  efforts  having  heen  made,  on  the  part 
of  her  teachers,  to  hias  her  mind,  or  to  change  ber 
religious  faith,  she  had  hecome  convinced  that  the 
Catholic  was  the  only  true  faith ;  that  all  heside  was 
heresy ;  and  that  she  felt  it  to  he  her  imperative  duty 
to  lorn  the  Catholic  church,  and,  at  the  proper  age, 
to  become  a  nun ;  but  that  the  re^ec^— that  was 
the  cold  word  which  she  addressed  to  her  kind  and 
affectionate  parents— the  respect  which  she  enter- 
tained for  them,  constrained  her  to  ask  their  oon- 
senty  before  she  took  so  important  a  sten— adding, 
that  she  hoped  they  would  not  withhold  this,  since, 
in  tiiat  event,  she  must  obey  Gk>d  rather  than  man, 
and  should  proceed,  in  spite  of  their  refusal. 

None  but  those  who  live  only  for  their  children, 
and  feel  that  these  constitute  the  end  and  object  of 
all  their  plans  and  purposes,  can  imagine  the  feel- 
ings which  rushed  tumultuously  into  the  bosoms  of 
the  father  and  mother,  as  they  perused  this  harrow- 
ing letter.  They  seemed  to  themselves  to  have  been 
sleeping,  in  fancied  security,  on  the  very  brink  of  a 
frigntful  precipice,  and  to  have  suddenly  awakened 
to  find  it  crumbling  under4bem,  and  ready  to  carry 
them  with  it,  in  its  headlong  plunge  into  the  yawn- 
incr  abyss  beneath.  The  mother  sat  in  speechleis 
ftnef;  while  the  scalding  tears  ran  down  her  cheeks. 
The  father,  feeling  that  his  own  peuuriousness  had 
rendered  him  deaf  to  the  warnings  of  his  wife,  when 
her  fears  led  her,  in  the  outset,  to  deprecate  the  step 
^hat  had  wrought  this  miachi^f ,  was  self^reproachea 
and  self -oondenmed ;  yet.  rtcoUecting  that  the  in- 
terposition of  his  authority  mi|^t  and  oould  avert 
the  impending  ovil,  did  not  give  way  to  his  feeliflgSi 


but  stood  f 
thinking  wl 
minutes,  ne: 

It  was  no 
time  stood 
that  unusui 
to  partake  ( 
worse  than 
of  all.  At 
broke  the  pi 
one  nerved  1 

"  Mr.  Mo] 
resist  the  ap 
her  yet." 

"  We  will 
the  determii 
dersthat  tl 
were  soon  oi 
the  immineij 

Having  tr 
rived  at  the 
day  from  ho 
the  carriage 
the  plan  w 
their  gover 
long  avenue 
through  wh 
blera  of  the 
dark  and  gh 
and,  knocki 
Superior, 
perlour,  wh 
whose  electa 
n|ent,onthe 
disposed  to 
ser ;  since  s 
mitted  V  he 
could  not  dc 
of  his  daugl 
224 


HYSTIIBXBS  07  A  COITVBNT. 


78 


but  stood  pale,  stero,  and  with  oontraoted  brow» 
thinkiDg  what  course  he  had  best  pursue.  For  some 
minutes,  neither  uttered  a  word. 

It  was  noon—- and  the  untasted  meal  had  for  some 
time  stood  unnoticed  on  the  board :  no  member  of 
that  unusually  so  happy  family  felt  any  inclination 
to  partake  of  it.  There  they  sat,  as  if  death,  or 
worse  than  death,  had  suatched  away  one  beloved 
of  all.  At  lenfi^th  the  mother,  with  a  strong  effort, 
broke  the  painful  silence,  and  said,  in  the  tones  of 
one  nervea  by  urgent  resolution  to  a  decisive  step. 

"  Mr.  Moreton,  we  must  go  to  Julia.  She  cannot 
resist  the  appeal  of  a  mother's  love.  We  will  save 
her  yet." 

"  We  will  start  at  once,'*  was  the  prompt  reply  of 
the  determined  father ;  and,  giving  immediate  or- 
ders that  the  carriage  should  be  got  ready,  they 
were  soon  on  their  way  to  rescue  their  child  foom 
the  imminent  ruin  which  threatened. 

Having  travelled  as  rapidly  as  possible,  they  ar- 
rived at  the  convent,  in  the  afternoon  of  the  third 
day  from  home ;  and,  while  the  mother  remained  in 
the  carriage  at  the  outside  gate,  in  accordance  with 
the  plan  which  had  been  previously  adopted  for 
their  government,  Mr.  Mor?ton  hastened  up  the 
long  avenue,  heavily  shaded  with  large  forest  trees, 
through  which  it  wound  its  tortuous  way— fit  em- 
blem of  the  practices  of  those  wlio  dwelt  within  that 
dark  and  gloomy  pile  of  imprisonment  and  shame ; 
and,  knockinfir  at  the  hall-door,  demanded  to  see  the 
Superior.  The  sister  porter  invited  him  into  the 
parlour,  where  presently  he  was  joined  by  the  lady 
whose  elej»ant  manners  had  so  fascinated  his  judg- 
ment, on  their  first  interview,  but  whom  he  was  now 
disposed  to  regard  as  the  most  treacherous  of  her 
sex ;  since  she  had  betrayed  the  sacred  trust  com- 
mitted V  her  hands  by  confiding  parents,  for  he 
could  not  doubt  that  this  woman  was  at  the  bottom 
of  his  daughter's  defection. 
224  v 


n 


KT8TBBIB8  01*  A  OOinnBNT. 


i 


r 


Ir: 


H^'r    ; 


She  met  him  with  unusaal  affability,  and  au  ap- 
peanuioe  of  the  uteiott  gratifioation  at  leeing  him ; 
and  was  proceeding  to  make  inquiry  as  to  the  health 
of  MxB,  Moreton  and  the  family,  wnen  he  interrupt- 
ed her  by  saying,— 

**  I  wish  to  aee  my  daughter,  madam." 

With  a  most  winning  smile  upon  her  countenance, 
the  Superior  replied— 

''I  regret  very  much  that  you  cannot  now  see 
Julia,  siv;  she  has  been  somewhat  indisposed,  but 
has  fallen  asleep:  and  it  would  be  injunous  to  her 
to  awake  her." 

Satisfied  that  this  was  a  mere  ruse,  on  the  part  of 
the  Superior,  to  gain  time,  or  to  accoraplisn  some 
other  purpose  of  her  own,  the  indignant  father^ 
throwing  off  the  restraint  which,  until  this  moment, 
he  had  maintained  upon  himself,  cried,  in  tones  of 
great  excitement : 

"  My  daughter,  Madam ;  I  want  my  daughter. 
Where  is  she?'' 

**  You  cannot  see  your  daughter,  sir,"  replied  the 
Superior,  with  cool  self-possession,  still  retaining  a 
bland  smile  upon  her  countenance.  "  She  is  ill  in 
bed,  and  cannot  be  seer  '* 

'*  I  am  her  father,  and  must  see  her ;''— and,  as  he 
thus  spoke,  with  increased  energy  of  manner,  he 
took  a  step  forward,  as  though  he  would  force  bis 
way  to  the  apartment  of  his  daughter. 

The  Superior,  however,  anticipating  his  purpose, 
instantly  rose,  and,  intercepting  him,  stood  full  in 
his  way,  between  him  and  the  door.  Then,  drawing 
herself  up  to  her  full  height,  while  she  assumed  an 
air  of  offended  dignity, — a  slight  flush  of  excitement 
fdaying  upon  her  really  beautiful  countenance,— 
answeied  auietly,  but  firmly— 

**  I  rule  here,  sir ;  and  I  say  to  you  that  you  can- 
not see  your  daughter.  T  say  to  you,  further,  that 
§ke  does  not  wish  to  see  you/' 

«<  Does  not  wiidi  to  see  b^r  lather  P    What  (Loe^ 


XYSTBfinss  CiB  A  ooirvmitt* 


W 


this  mean  P"— inquired  Mr.  Moreton,  his  whole 
manner  indicating  the  greateit  Burpriae  andagita* 
tion  of  soul. 

*'  Because  she  has  renounced  you,  together  with 
all  the  yain  ties  of  this  sinful  world,  and  claims  the 
protection  of  this  sanctuary ;"— haughtily  answer- 
ed the  Superior. 

« It  is  false  I"— thundered  the  outraged  parent, 
who,  now  wrought  up  to  the  highest  pitch  of  ex- 
citement, was  ahout  to  push  the  Superior  aside,  and 
would  doubtless  have  committed  some  act  of  yio- 
lence.  but,  just  at  this  moment,  his  daughter,  who 
had  oy  some  means  learned  the  arrival  of  her  fa- 
ther, or  heard  his  voice  in  altercation  with  the  Mo- 
ther Superior,  fUohed  into  the  room,  her  dress 
greatly  disordered,  and.  passing  by  the  latter,  who 
tried  in  vain  to  arrest  ner,  threw  herself  into  his 
arms,  crying,  in  accents  which  thrilled  to  his  in- 
most soul^**  Father^  save  me !    O,  save  me !" 

Clasping  her  to  his  bosom  with  an  energy  that 
modted  ul  interference,  for  he  was  a  powerful 
man,  the  father  cast  a  look  of  proud  defiance  up- 
on the  nc  longer  mild  and  plaoid  Superior — who, 
with  the  countenance  of  a  demon,  and  the  eye  of 
an  infuriated  tigress,  that  had  just  had  snatched 
from  her  jaws  the  prey  which  she  was  about  to 
share  with  the  whelps,  advanced  as  though  she 
would  tear  Julia  from  the  grasp  of  her  natural  {pro- 
tector;— and,  pi^ahiug  her  outstretched  arm  aside, 
hastened  with  the  almost  fainting  child  to  her  mo- 
ther ;  who,  meanwhile,  too  remote  to  see  or  to  hear 
what  had  passed,  waited  in  great  anxiety  the  return 
of  her  husoand  to  the  carriage. 

The  reader  can  imagine  how  pleasant  was  the  sur- 
prise to  Mrs.  Moreton,  and  what  must  have  been 
the  revulsion  of  her  feelings,  when  Julia,  throwing 
kenelf  upon  her  bosom,  and  i>utting  her  anna 
aroimd  her  neck,  oried!^  in  a  voice  amtost  choked 
with  emotion— **  Forgive  me.  my  dearest  mother; 
I  will  never  leave  you  ag^n,^' 


?6 


ItlTStBBXBa  o9  ▲  ddittBNf  • 


Driving  rapidlv  away,  Mr.  Moreton  went  to  the 
neighbouring  TiUagei  where  he  handed  to  a  friend 
a  sum  of  money  necessary  to  pay  his  daughter's 
bill  at  the  oonyent,  together  with  an  order  for  the 


delivery  of  her  clothing ;  and  then  tamed  his  horses' 
heads  towards  home. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Julia's  narratiye^Specious  and  artftil  conduct  of  the  Mo- 
ther Superior— How  the  letter  was  wrote. 

Dtmrwc^  tlie  journey  homeward,  and  after  they  had 
Feaclu^t  ^  tbvkt  dear  spot, — over  which  had  so  recently 
gk  l^iiirei'  taiok  gloom  and  deep  sorrow,  but  where 
mmhhn^  and  gladness  now  reigned,— Julia  related 
^:c  ho^i  '^'J^rents  what  had  transpirad  durins  the  time 
what  ttxi^  uAd  spent  at  the  convent  school,  the  most 
promimeut  of  which  is  here  summarily  laid  before 
we  roader. 

It  seems  that,  on  her  arrival  at  the  convent,  when 
first  brought  there  by  her  father,  Julia  became  a 
great  favourite,  both  with  the  nuns  and  with  the 
bowrders.  Her  vivacity,  her  talent  at  repartee,  her 
general  amiability,  and  her  studiousness,  gained  the 
respect,  and  won  the  affection,  of  all,  from  the 
Mother  Superior  down  to  the  lowest  menial.  The 
former  soon  fixed  upon  her  as  a  suitable  subject  of 
which  to  make  a  useiful  and  valuable  acquisition  to 
the  order;  and,  with  the  quick  perception  of  a 
strong  mind  trained  unilor  Jcisuit  influence,  readily 
discovered  the  prominont  traits  in  ijer  disposition, 
and  devised  the  plan  by  means  of  which  she  mii;ht 
best  accomplish  her  design ;  yet,  with  all  the  cunning 
and  wariness  of  her  class^  she  so  completely  dis- 
guised her  real  purpose,  that  Julia  only  became 
aware  of  it  at  the  vei^  last  moment,  as  it  were,  and 
then  only  through  the  instromentality  of  one  who 


hadprevic 
and  who  p 

During  1 
Superior  d 
of  the  youi 
first  step,  j 
he  acquire! 
to  do  this, 
ness;  allo^ 
granted  to 
visits,  in  tl 
when  the 
she  was  su] 
thing  that 
bothrespec 
in  the  ban 
representii 
in'the  livei 
have  her  1 
their  histoi 
these;  wh 
fall  like  sw 
thusiastic  i 
discriptive 
Julia's  stuc 
lighter,  by 
in  the  Suf 
thing  was  f 

But  all  t 
peculiar  dc 
most  carol 
not  a  disre 
was  prono 
rent  kindn 
of  Gonsidei 
Julia  requ 
forms  and 
peotedfroi 
lyinterceii 


;      If: 


inrsTSBUB  ow  k  covtbst* 


n 


had  previously  f  alien  a  Tiotim  to  the  lame  arttfloe, 
and  who  perisned  in  the  same  coils. 

Daring  the  first  session  of  the  school,  the  Mother 
Saperior  did  nothing  more  than  gain  the  aflfections 
of  the  young  ffirl ;  well  knowing  that  this  must  be  a 
first  step,  ana  that  with  these  her  confidence  would 
be  acquired  as  a  necessary  consequence.  In  order 
to  do  this,  she  treated  her  with  distinffuished  kind- 
ness; allowing  her  many  privileges  wnich  were  not 
granted  to  others ;  and  encouraging  her  frequent 
visits,  in  the  evenings,  to  her  private  parlour— save 
when  the  Father  General  came  to  see  her—where 
she  was  sure  to  find  something  nice  to  eat,  and  some- 
thing that  would  interest  her  mind;  her  taste  in 
both  respects  being  carefully  consulted.  She  placed 
in  the  hands  of  Julia,  rare  and  beautiful  pictures, 
representing  the  miracles  and  prominent  incidents 
in'the  lives  of  the  Saints  of  the  Church  and  would 
have  her  to  read  aloud  interesting  passages  from 
their  history.  She  would  also  speak  to  Julia  of 
these ;  wliile  the  silvery  notes  of  her  voice  would 
fall  like  sweet  music  upon  the  ear,  and  the  fiprl's  en- 
thusiastic soul  would  be  enrapt  by  the  magic  of  her 
discriptive  and  narrative  powers.  All  day  long, 
Julia's  studies  were  enlivened,  and  her  tasks  maae 
lighter,  by  the  anticipation  of  spending  an  evening 
in  the  Superior's  pnvate  apartment,  where  every 
thing  was  so  snug  and  so  comfortable. 

But  all  this  time  not  a  word  was  said  about  the 
peculiar  dogmas  of  the  Romish  reli^ou,  save  in  the 
most  careless,  and,  as  it  were,  accidental  manner; 
not  a  disrespectful  allusion  to  the  Protestant  faith 
was  pronounced  at  all,  it  was  with  the  utmost  appa- 
rent icindness  of  feeling,  and  with  the  greatest  show 
of  consideration  for  those  who  bore  it.  Neither  was 
Julia  required  to  comply,  at  any  time,  with  Romish 
forms  and  usages,  further  than  was  (B^enerally  ex- 
pected from  all  Protestant  pupils ;  but,  if  a  peculiar- 
ly intercsimg  or  imposing  service  was  to  be  perform* 


78 


inrsnuxBi  ov  ▲  omrEnr. 


ed,  h«r  oniiosity  to  witnen  it  wm  aroused,  before- 
hand, by  dow  and  gradual  approaohes  whioh  wholly 
oonoealed  from  view  the  real  object;  and,  after  it 
was  oyer,  it  would  be  introduced  in  the  most  natural 
manner  imaginable,  as  a  toi)ic  of  conversation,  and 
so  as  to  lead  an  ardent  and  imaginative  mind  to  in* 
quire  into  its  purport. 
Thus,  without  appearing  to  seek  it,  frequent  op- 

Sortunity  was  afforded  for  the  explanation  of  Gatho- 
0  dogmas,  and  their  implantation  in  Julia's  tender 
mind,  before  she  was  aware  of  it.  No  wonder,  then, 
if  with  such  a  nature  as  hers,  impulsive,  confiding, 
and  enthusiastic ;  fond  of  novelty,  and  delighting  in 
excitement ;  with  so  much  around  her  to  furnish  ali- 
ment for  her  mental  appetite;  and,  added  to  ail 
this,  the  presence  of  a  master  spirit— wise,  strong- 
willed,  unscrupulous— which  knew  well  how  to  con- 
trol and  adjust  this  complicated  machinery  for  the 
production  of  the  largest  results  in  the  accomplish- 
ment of  its  own  occult  purposes ;  Julia  should  have 
been  so  fully,  jret  unconsciously,  trained  by  the  Mo- 
ther Superior,  in  the  short  space  of  five  monthn,  as 
to  be  made  to  think  and  feel  lust  as  the  latter  might 
will  that  she  should ;  and  to  be  ripe  for  the  develop- 
ment of  her  plans,  on  Julia's  return  from  home,  at 
tiie  close  of  the  summer  vacation.  No  wonder,  too, 
that,  under  the  circumstiwces  of  false  colouring 
which  had  been  thrown  around  her,  she  should  re- 
gard the  life  of  a  nun  as  being  the  fullest  embodi* 
ment  of  human  felicitv ;  as  all  sunshine,  without  an 
obscuring  cloud,  or  fitting  rack,  to  dim  for  an  in- 
stance its  brightness. 

On  her  return  from  home,  however,  after  the  va- 
cation, the  rich  politician,  into  whose  hands  the  un- 
wary girl  had  so  unfortunatelv  fallen,  began  to  nar- 
row the  cirde  of  her  coils,  ana  to  bring  them  to  bear 
moxe  directly  upon  the  focal  point  of  her  schemings. 
The  first  object  to  be  accomplished  was  to  destroy 
her  confidence  in  her  own  religious  faith ;  and  al* 


though  tfa 
but  sncoei 
work  was 
to  the  pla 
The  social 
ableoppoi 
likely  thai 
expiration 
Besides,  h 
who  hadi 
cessarilyv 
the  third  n 
Frotestani 
fair  to  sub 
before  the 
chapel,  an 
Uo  church. 

All  this 
in  sUken  t 
that  she  w 
seemed  to 
of  her  owi 
we  have  m 
it  was  riff] 
what  had 
andprope 
her  feelmi 
or  of  her  I 
the  f aitii  < 
to  the  ser 
ther  Supei 
oeption  of 

Now  tl 
church,  si 
Superior, 
ter,  in  hei 
that  pow< 
symbols, 
fessional, 


MliTWUBl  OV  ▲  0011 VUIT. 


70 


though  thii  had,  to  %  oerUIn  •stent,  boon  oovertly 
bat  sacoeitfollyy  done,  yet  the  completion  of  ti£e 
work  was  to  be  oaatioiuly  effected,  or  great  miaohief 
to  the  plans  of  the  Superior  mignt  be  the  result. 
The  sodaleyenings  spent  in  her  room  afforded  mAU 
able  opportunities  for  this ;  and,  as  it  was  more  than 
likely  that  Julia  would  not  return  home  before  the 
expiration  of  ten  months,  time  was  not  wanting. 
Besides,  how  really  easy  the  task  with  a  young  ^1 
who  had  been  so  mipenectlv  instructed,  as  she  ne- 
cessarily was,  in  the  principles  of  her  faith.  Before 
the  third  month  had  elapsea,  the  end  was  gained : — 
Protestantism  was  rejected,  and  it  became  a  light  af- 
fair to  substitute  Bomanism  in  its  stead.  On  the  day 
before  the  session  closed,  Julia  was  baptised  in  the 
chapel,  and  became  a  member  of  the  Boman  Oatho* 
lio&urch. 

All  this  time,  there  had  been  no  compulsion.  Led 
in  sUken  fetters,  Julia  neyer  for  a  moment  supposed 
that  she  was  captive  to  the  iron  will  of  another,  but 
seemed  to  herself  to  have  taken  step  by  step,  wholly 
of  her  own  accord ;  until  not  only  was  effected  what 
we  haye  seen,  but  she  had  been  made  to  belieye  that 
it  was  right  and  proper  to  oonceal  from  her  parents 
what  had  occurred.  Nay,  more,  that  it  was  right 
and  proper  to  deceiye  them  as  to  the  true  state  of 
her  leelmgs,  and  make  them  conclude,  from  the  ten- 
or of  her  letters,  that  she  was  still  a  firm  adherent  to 
the  f aitii  of  her  ancestors ;  **  the  end — your  deyotion 
to  the  service  of  Gk)d  and  the  Virgin,"  said  the  Mo- 
ther Superior— '^  will  sanctify  the  means  ;'* — the  de- 
ception of  her  best  friends,  her  parents. 

rfow  that  she  was  a  member  of  the  Oatholio 
church,  she  was  more  than  ever  in  the  power  of  the 
Superior,  and  subject  to  her  control ;  while  the  lat- 
ter, in  her  turn,  found  increased  means  of  exercising 
that  power,  in  the  imposing  ceremonies,  tiie  mystio 
symbols,  the  thrilling  music,  the  demoralising  con- 
fessional, and  the  constant  appeals  made  to  the  in^ 


(■  ■? 


*>', 


80 


1CT8TSBIB8  OF  ▲  OOITTXKT. 


nate  tapentiiion  of  poor  fallen  human  nature ;  in- 
deed, in  all  iliat  pertaini  to  the  ritual  of  that  church. 
In  theie,  Julia  found  excitement ;  in  these,  there* 
fore,  she  took  an  enthusiattio  delight ;  and  when- 
ever,  on  thereoeption  of  a  letter  from  home,  or  from 
any  other  cause,  old  associations  and  old  attf^ch- 
menta  would  linger  ahout  the  hearthstone  of  nv:^ 
mory,  and  rekindle  its  emhers,  the  Mother  Superior, 
from  whom  she  concealed  nothing,  would  promptly 
hut  adroitly  smother  them,  until  she  became  com- 
pletely weaned  from  all  that  were  once  most  dear  to 
ner ;  and  her  great  anxiety  now  was  not  to  he  re- 
called home,  from  the  scenes  and  pursuits  in  which 
her  happiness  seemed  to  he  so  completely  involved. 

She  was  now  in  a  fit  state  of  miud  to  be  influenc- 
ed to  take  the  remaining  steps,  and  to  be  made  a 
permanent  member  of  &e  family  in  which  she  re- 
sided ;  in  other  words,  to  become  a  nun.  As  this 
was  a  step,  however,  in  which  she  could  be  forcibly 
oontroUea  by  her  parents,  at  least  until  she  was  of 
ace ;  and  as  the  Mother  Superior  had  now  pained  all 
that  was  immediately  necessary  to  the  ultimate  ao- 
oomplishment  of  her  great  design ;  she  determined 
to  aw  ait  the  dose  of  the  ensuing  session,  which  was 
to  be  her  last,  before  anything  further  should  be 
done ;  and,  meanwhile,  to  do  all  in  her  power  to  con- 
firm and  establish  Julia  in  her  new  faith. 

Thus  things  progressed  until  within  a  few  weeks 
of  the  termination  of  the  third  session,  when  the 
Mother  Superior,  having  prepared  a  letter  which  she 
thought  would  8>nswer  the  purpose,  placed  it  in  Ju- 
lia's hands  to  be  oopied.  After  numerous  alterations 
uid  corrections,  which  suggested  themselves  from 
time  to  time,  had  been  made,  this  letter  was  finally 
sent  to  Mr.  Moreton,  but,  by  some  unaccountable  de- 
tention in  the  post  office,  did  not  reach  him  as  soon 
as  it  should  have  done,  by  at  least  ten  days.  This 
delav  was  the  salvation  of  Julia,  as  will  be  shown  ia 
the  following  chapter. 


ItTSTBBXICS  OV  ▲  OORTSNT* 


81 


CHAPTEB  XVI. 

Sister  TheresA,  her  Bufferingi  and  death— Her  dying  warn* 
ing  to  Jnlia—Its  effect  upon  Julia— The  Mother  Supe- 
rior's rage  in  the  chamber  of  death— The  Father  Oene- 
ral'a  bftve  schemR  to  enrich  the  order— The  Mother  Su« 
perior  in  a  dil  n  iia. 

It  appears,  from  Julia's  recital  to  her  parents,  that, 
while  ramhling  over  tie  convent  building,  one  day, 
she  found,  lying  upon  a  pallet  of  straw,  with  ragged 
and  insufficient  bed-clothing  spread  over  her,  in  a 
B'nall  room,  in  a  remote  and  rather  unoocumed  por- 
tion of  the  vast  pile,  a  poor  nun,  whose  cr  tenanca 
..ore  the  traces  of  great  beauty,  but  who  was  fear- 
fully waFted  by  disease  and  suffering.  Discoyeringy 
on  conyersing  with  her,  that  she  was  greatly  neg« 
lected  by  the  members  of  the  boas  ^hold,  Julia  re- 
quested, and  obtained,  permission,  from  the  Mother 
Superior,  to  visit  this  nun,  which  was  the  more 
readily  granted  because  the  latter  really  knew  no* 
thing  about  the  true  condition  of  one  who  had  long 
been  lost  sight  of  by  her  as  an  helpless  and  rained 
victim,  save  as  her  name  was  from  time  to  time  re- 
ported upon  the  sick  list.  From  that  day  on  until 
the  poor  nun  died,  Julia  spent  an  hour  or  more  by 
her  bed-side,  every  da^r,  and  occasionally  sat  up  with 
her,  a  portion  of  the  night.  Her  kindness  to  Sister 
Theresa—for  that  was  the  name  of  this  poor  nun, 
whom  the  reader  will  recollect  as  having  bad  an  in« 
terview  with  the  Father  General,  in  the  convent 
garden  at  midnight— soon  won  her  grateful  affec« 
tion ;  and,  as  her  light  footsteps  would  be  heard 
daily  ascending  the  stairs  on  her  errand  of  mercy, 
Theresa's  ooonisnance  would  beam  with  gladness. 
Sometimes,  when  Julia  would  be  seated  by  her  bed« 
side,  she  would  look  up  in  her  face,  with  a  smile  of 
Iteartfelt  giratitade,  fuid  would  press  be^  baiid  ear* 


i 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


I^IM    |25 
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HiotogFaphic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


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^^    ^\  ^r\\ 


23  WBT  MAIN  STRUT 

WIBSTER.N.Y.  MSM 

(716)«7a-4S03 


'4^ 


^>. 


A* 


^ 


82 


KYSTBBIES  OF  A  OOOTB27T. 


neatly,  wbile  the  big  tears  would  start  to  her  eye,  and 
tridue  down  her  cheek,  as  she  whispered  a  prayer  to 
the  Yirgia,  for  blessings  on  her  benefactress. 

On  the  morning  of  uie  very  day  upon  which  Mr. 
Moreton  reached  the  convent,  as  related  in  the  chap- 
ter  preceding  the  last,  Julia  paid  her  usual  visit  to 
her  patient,  as  she  called  her,  and  was  alarmed  to 
find  her  a  great  deal  worse  than  she  had  been  previ- 
ously. Taung  her  by  the  hand,  Sister  Theresa  said 
to  her,  in  tones  of  deep  emotion,—"  Bear  Julia,  I  am 
dying :  I  feel  that  I  cannot  live  much  longer;  and 
because  I  love  you  for  your  love  to  me,  and  for  your 
charity  to  a  poor  deserted  nun,  I  wish  to  give  you  a 
solemn  charge,  as  from  the  lips  of  a  dying  woman; 
which  it  would  embitter  my  last  moments  to  with, 
hold  from  you,  while  it  is  the  best  return  I  can  make 
for  your  exceeding  kindness  to  me.  Never  consent 
to  become  a  nun." 

JuUa  started  back,  as  though  she  had  been  stong 
by  an  adder,  and  seemed  to  doubt  if  she  had  heard 
aright,  or  as  if  she  thought  that  the  poor  nun  might 
be  out  of  her  head. 

Sister  Theresa  read  her  thoughts ;  and,  again  tak* 
ing  her  hand,  and  pressing  it  earnestly  in  her  own, 
repeated  the  charge  in  a  still  more  solemn  and  im- 
pressive manner  than  before.  Julia  would  have 
spoken,  but  the  nun  said  to  her—"  Listen  to  me.  I 
had  thought  that  my  melancAioly  story  would  have 
died  with  me ;  and,  indeed,  I  know  not  that  I  shall 
have  strength  to  relate  it  to  you ;  yet,  deeply  indebt- 
ed to  you  as  I  am,  I  cannot  better  employ  my  re- 
maining strength  than  in  communicating  that  which 
may  save  you  from  a  fate  like  mine.  In  the  narra- 
tive which  I  am  about  to  give  vou,  you  will  find 
abundant  cause  for  the  charge  which  has  filled  yonr 
mind  with  astonishment." 

« I  am,*'  continued  Theresa,  <<  the  only  child  of 
wealthy  parents  in  the  south,  who  placed  me  here, 
some  years  sincCi  as  a  pupil  in  the  convent  school 


For  two  y 
la^ed 
which  she 
and  othen 
—for  I  ha 
the  partic) 
testant  f ai 
the  end  of 
f  uUy  oomi 
tity,ando1 
my  parent 
anceof  th 
been  irreti 
since  learn 
to  her  bee 

Srave.  My 
oor  of  th< 
without  m 
refused;  } 
and,  whei 
visit  J  for  tl 
makmg  m^ 
ther  he  is  ] 
tears  inter 
pelledto  ] 
vent  to  the 
fortunes,  a 
"After! 
my  adopt! 
through  \v 
ly  refieot  \ 
prev  to  t 
andtoirri 
dear  friei 
Mother  Si 
She  no  1 
where  I  h 
longw  me 
bat,  in  tl 


MTSTBBIBS  09  A  OONVENT* 


83 


Bye,  and 
rayerto 

ich  Mr. 
le  chap- 
visit  to 
rmedto 
tt  previ- 
3sa  said 
ia,  lam 
er;  and 
'or  your 
e  you  a 
V'oman; 
K>  with, 
knmake 
oonsent 

&  itnng 
d  heard 
1  might 

lin  tak- 
er own, 
nd  im- 
1  have 
me.  I 
d  hare 
I  shall 
indebt- 
my  re- 
which 
narra* 
Ulfind 
id  your 

hUdof 
here, 
school 


For  two  yean  after  my  arrival,  the  Mother  Superior 
lavidied  upon  me  acta  of  kindness  similar  to  those 
which  she,  I  know,  has  exhibited  towards  yourself 
and  others,  and  with  the  same  motives.  By  degrees 
—for  I  have  not  the  strength  to  relate  to  you  all  of 
the  particulars—she  led  me  to  abandon  my  own  Pro- 
testant f  aitii,  and  to  embrace  Bomanism— until,  at 
the  end  of  the  second  year,  I  found  myself  a  novice, 
fully  committed  to  take  the  vows  of  poverty,  chas- 
tity, and  obedience— and  eventually  I  became  a  nun ; 
my  parents,  however,  being  kept  in  profound  ignor- 
ance of  the  whole  matter,  until  the  final  step  had 
been  irretrievably  taken.  My  mother,  as  I  have 
since  learned  accidentally,  when  informed  of  it,  took 
to  her  bed,  and  never  left  it  until  carried  to  her 
grave.  My  father  has  more  than  once  applied  at  the 
door  of  the  convent,  for  permission  to  see  me,  but 
without  my  knowledge,  and  in  my  name  has  been 
refused ;  being  told  that  I  did  not  wish  to  see  him ; 
and,  when  it  was  too  late,  I  have  been  told  of  his 
visit,  for  the  purpose  of  harrowing  my  feelings,  and 
making  my  sufferings  the  greater.  I  know  not  whe- 
ther he  is  yet  alive  or  not.  Here  Sister  Theresa's 
tears  interrupted  her  narrative;  and  she  was  com- 
pelled to  pause,  for  a  few  minutes,  while  she  gave 
vent  to  them.  Theny  resuming  the  story  of  her  mis- 
fortunes, she  said— 

'*  After  the  imposing  ceremony,  which  attending 
my  adopting  the  religious  habit,  had  been  gone 
through  with,  and  I  had  time  to  sit  down,  and  calm- 
ly reflect  upon  what  I  had  done,  I  found  myself  a 
prey  to  the  keenest  self-reproaches  for  my  folly, 
and  to  irrepressible  longings  after  my  home  and  my 
dear  friends.  I  found,  too,  that  the  manner  of  the 
Mother  Superior  was  wholly  changed  towards  me. 
She  no  longer  invited  me  to  her  private  parlour, 
where  I  had  spent  so  many  happy  hours.  She  no 
longer  met  me  with  kind  words  and  loving  looks : 
but,  in  the  place  of  these,  had  assumed  towards  mo 


\1>U..\ 


f  . 

11 


I : 


84 


HTSTBBZES  OF  ▲  00N7BMT* 


an  aspect  of  cold  and  haughty  control,  and  kept  me 
at  a  most  cruel  distance.  I  was  subjected  to  meni- 
al offices,  to  heavy  tasks,  and  to  severe  penances, 
which  seriously  affected  my  health.  I  had  no  amuse- 
ments, no  relaxations — I  was  cut  off  from  all  those 
associations  and  endearments  after  which  my  heart 
yearned,  and  for  the  enjoyment  of  which  I  felt  my- 
self qualified  by  the  possession  of  a  warm  and  gen- 
erous nature.  In  short,  I  was  buried  alive.  In  vain 
I  sought  for  some  one  into  whose  bosom  I  could  pour 
the  tale  of  my  sorrows,  even  among  those  around  me 
who  were  as  unhappy  as  I ;  for  so  completely  were 
they  under  the  tyrannical  control  of  the  Mother  Sa- 
penor,  that,  when  once  or  twice  I  sought  consola- 
tion from  this  source,  my  confidence  was  betrayed, 
and  severe  punishment  was  the  consequence.  My 
Father  Confessor  made  dishonourable  proposals  to 
me,  and  I  spurned  him  from  me ;  but  the  tempter 
came  in  the  garb  of  an  angel  of  light,  holdins  the 
olive  branch  of  friendship  in  his  hand,  and  with 
the  sweet  words  of  sympathy  upon  his  oily  tongue 
— I  could  not  resist  him — and  fell.  O  horrible  fdl ! 
how  fearfully  punished !  The  tempter  was  the  lover 
of  the  Mother  Superior ;  she  found  it  out,  and,  not 
daring  to  punish  him,  although  it  led  to  a  terrific 
scene  between  them,  which  had  like  to  have  result- 
ed in  very  serious  consequences  to  both,  but  was  at 
length  compromised,  and  a  reconciliation  took  place; 
her  jealousv  and  wrath  found  their  mark  in  me ;  and 
mv  untimely  and  painful  death  is  the  result.  But 
what  wonder  that  I  fell  beneath  the  insidious  ap- 
proaches of  the  wily  Father  General,  who  knew  all 
the  loneliness  of  a  poor  nun's  life,  the  yearnings  of 
her  heart  after  kindness,  and  the  sufferings  and  bit- 
ter disappointments  which  I  had  previously  endured. 
What  wonder  that  I  should  first  feel  grateful  to  him 
who  spoke  to  me  the  only  words  of  soothing  which 
fell  upon  my  greedy  ears;  that  I  should  then  love 
Mm  ^  iMid  th^u f    $ut|  dear  Julia,  do  not  despise 


me— do  n< 
and  ashes 
who  have 
years  I  ha 
health  has 
to  render 
of  thirteei 
have  been 
neglected 
as  necessi 
tervals. 
but  once,  a 
until  you,] 
and  began 
up  the  gloc 
sufferings  1 
it,  noble-h( 
It  had  cc 
cital  to  Jul 
ed  by  a  gu 
was  rapidl; 
had  conclui 
let.     Her 
which  she 
her  own  p( 
some  time 
countenam 
bly  impres 
"May  1 
goodness ; 
poor  than] 
to  heed  th< 
relation  o: 
0,  if  you 
tions ;  if  y 
everv  gei 
crushed,  i 
not  live  w 
craving  a] 


kept  me 
to  rneni. 
penances, 
^  atnuse* 
all  those 
ny  heart 
felt  my. 

ind  gen- 

Iq  vaiu 

uld  pour 

ound  me 

ely  were 

therSu- 

consola* 

etrayed, 

e.     My 

posalsto 

tempter 

ing  the 

idwith 

tongue 

^efaU! 

le  loyer 

id,  not 

>  terrific 

result- 

<  was  at 

place; 

le ;  and 

But 

usap- 

ew  all 

ings  of 

ndbit- 

idured. 

to  him 

which 

m  love 


IttSVEBtES  09  A  CONVBKT. 


85 


me— do  not  forsake  me.  I  have  repented  in  dust 
and  ashes;  I  trust  there  is  mercy  in  heaven  for  me, 
who  have  been  so  bitterly  deceived  on  earth.  For 
years  I  have  endured  a  living  death ;  and  since  my 
health  has  failed  me,  and  I  have  no  longer  been  able 
to  render  any  service  to  the  establishment— a  period 
of  thirteen  months,  during  most  of  which  time  I 
have  been  confined  to  my  bed — I  have  been  wholly 
neglected  by  both  the  Superior  and  the  nuns,  save 
as  necessity  required  their  attention  at  distant  in- 
tervals. Even  the  Father  Confessor  has  visited  me 
but  once,  and  then  at  my  own  most  urgent  request : 
until  you,  my  dear  Julia,  accidentally  discovered  me, 
and  began  that  series  of  kindnesses  which  has  lit 
up  the  gloom  of  my  sick  room,  and  alleviated  my 
sufferings  to  so  great  an  extent.  God  bless  you  for 
it,  noble-hearted  girl !'' 

It  had  cost  the  nun  a  great  effort  to  make  this  re- 
cital to  Julia  ;and  it  had  been  frequently  interrupt- 
ed by  a  gush  of  tears,  or  the  hard,  dry  cough  which 
was  rapidly  taking  her  to  the  grave ;  and,  when  she 
had  concluded  it,  she  fell  back  exhausted  on  her  pal- 
let. Her  kind  nurse  administered  some  cordials 
wMch  she  had  brought  with  her— the  purchase  of 
her  own  pocket-money— and,  after  lying  quietly  for 
some  time.  Sister  Theresa,  turning  to  her  with  a 
countenance  upon  which  the  seal  of  death  was  legi- 
bly impressed,  said  to  her : — 

*<  May  heaven  reward  you,  dear  Julia,  for  your 
goodness ;  I  cannot  in  any  other  way  than  by  my 
poor  thanks.  But  let  me  most  earuestly  entreat  you 
to  heed  the  warning  which  I  have  given  you,  in  this 
relation  of  my  sad  life  since  I  entered  this  prison. 
0,  if  you  would  not  bring  sorrow  upon  your  rela- 
tions ;  if  you  would  not  have  every  kindly  affection, 
everv  generous  emotion,  every  faculty  of  mind, 
crashed,  and  seared  and  withered— if  you  would 
not  live  with  a  burnini^  void  within  your  bosom— a 
oraving  appetite  after  friendship,  and  love,  and  soci* 


86 


UYSTBBIS8  OF  A  OOlTVBirr. 


al  happinesB,  whioh  is  doomed  never  to  be  satisfied ; 
if  you  would  not  witness  scenes  which  curdle  the 
blood,  and  freeze  the  very  soul— if  you  would  not 
loaUi  yourself  and  all  about  you— if  you  would  not 
be  tempted,  as  I  have  been,  almost  daily,  to  com- 
mit suicide,  as  affording  the  only  means  of  escape 
from  conventual  pollution  and  imprisonment— if 
would  not  die,  at  the  last,  away  from  your  kindred 
and  friends,  deserted  by  all,  as  I  am— by  all  bat 
you,  whom  God  seems  to  have  sent  to  me  as  an  an- 
gel of  mercy,  to  pity  her  whom  her  race  contemns— 
O  !  if  you  would  escape  all  of  those  evils,  aye,  ten 
thousand  more;  I  beseech  you,  never  consent  to 
become — " 

^*  Vile  wretch  !  what  means  this  P"  cried,  or  ra- 
ther shrieked,  the  Mother  Superior,  who,  for  the 
first  time,  alarmed  at  Julia's  long  visit  to  the  sick 
nun,  bad  crept  stealthily  up  stairs,  and  arrived  in 
time  to  overhear  the  last  sentence  or  two  of  the 
charge  which  had  just  been  uttered,  or  rather  so  ab- 
ruptly interrupted  by  her  exclamation.  When  Ju- 
lia, almost  beside  herself  with  terror,  looked  around 
to  ^scover  the  source  from  which  this  interruption 
came,  she  beheld  the  Superior,  standing  in  the  door- 
way, pale  with  rage,  her  eye  fiashing  fire,  and  her 
hand  uplifted  as  though  she  would  smite  the  poor 
victim, lying  helpless  on  the  couch  of  suffering. 

But  that  victim  was  beyond  the  reach  of  her  ma- 
lice— she  was  dead ;  and  the  other,  whom  she  was 
about  to  immolate  on  the  altar  of  religious  bigotry, 
bad  escaped  her  coils.  The  scales  had  fallen  from 
her  eyes ;  the  delusion  had  been  dissipated,  as  the 
morung  mist ;  she  seemed  to  have  awoke  from  some 
dream  which  had  fast  bound  her  senses  in  illusion, 
and  to  have  become  sensible  of  the  realities  which 
surrounded  her,  threatening  her  destruction. 

The  Mother  Snp^or  saw  it  all  at  a  glance—saw, 
too,  that  her  passion  had  betrayed  her,  and  had 
served  to  make  the  matter  worse ;  but,  confident  in 


her  own 
yet  recove 
self  about 
however, 
tion,  Jvlii 
!nie  Super 
tly  bidoin 
fully  lock 
downstai] 
upon  her 
herself,  an 
ing  room, 
oratory,  a 
she  deposi 
secret  dra 
which  she 

«  To  the 

Annunciat 

«] 

"  I  have 
pres,  resid 
father  of  1 
member  of 
ment,  has  ] 
and  makii 
ment,  that 
inherit  *  th 
Boman  Cal 
she  is;'  ai 
do  so,  the  I 
in  France, 

"I  wish 
and  devis( 
heritance  c 

air  to  the 

is  letter. 


I 


MTSTliflElZBS  OF  A  OONVEI^t. 


87 


ktisfied; 
rdle  the 
»uld  not 
>uld  not 
to  corn- 
escape 
lent— if 

kindred 
all  but 
an  an- 
emns^ 
ye,  ten 
isent  to 

t  or  ra- 
for  the 
^he  sick 
rived  in 
of  the 
rsoab- 
len  Ja« 
around 
'uption 
e  door- 
nd  her 
lepoor 

g. 

er  ma- 
le was 
igotry, 
ifrom 
as  the 
Hsome 
usioD| 
which 

r'WW, 
id  had 
entin 


her  own  abilities,  and  foudlv  hoping  that  she  could 
yet  recover  the  ground  which  she  had  lost,  set  her- 
self about  the  work,  with  infinite  address.  It  was, 
however,  too  late.  Overcome  with  excess  of  emo- 
tion, Julia  sat  weeping  as  if  her  heart  would  break. 
The  Superior,  putting  her  arm  around  her,  and  gen- 
tly bidding  her  arise,  left  the  death-chamber,  care- 
fully locking  the  door  behind  them,  and  led  her 
down  stairs  to  her  own  bed-room,  where,  laying  her 
upon  her  own  soft  couch,  she  told  her  to  compose 
herself,  and  try  to  sleep.  Then,  entering  the  adjoin- 
ing room,  which  we  have  said  was  fitted  up  as  an 
oratory,  and  which  contained  an  escritoire  in  which 
she  deposited  her  valuable  papers,  she  took,  from  a 
secret  drawer,  a  letter  received  that  morning,  and 
which  she  perused  with  great  attention.  It  ran  thus : 

"  New  York,  July  10, 1812. 

"To  the  Mother  Superior  of  the  Convent  of  the 
Annunciation. 

<*DeabMadaii, 

*^  I  have  just  been  informed,  by  the  Father  Bean- 
pres,  resident  at  B&ton  Bonge,  Louisiana,  that  the 
father  of  Emilie  de  Yere,  now  the  Sister  Theresa,  a 
member  of  the  convent  under  your  spiritual  govern- 
ment, has  recently  died,  leaving  an  immense  estate, 
and  making  provision,  by  his  last  will  and  testa- 
ment, that  his  only  daughter,  this  same  Emilie,  shall 
inherit  *  the  whole  property,  if  she  will  renounce  the 
Boman  Catholic  faith,  and  leave  the  con  vent  in  which 
she  is ;'  and  that,  in  the  event  of  her  refusing  to 
do  so,  the  said  property  shall  go  to  distant  relations, 
in  France,  the  daughter  having  nothing. 

**I  wish  you  to  converse  with  the  Sister  Theresa, 
and  devise  some  plan  by  means  of  which  this  in- 
heritance can  be  secured  to  the  order.  I  shall  re- 
pair to  the  convent  on  the  fifth  day  from  the  date  of 
this  letter*        **  I  remain  as  ever,  yours, 

**  Fbanoois  Jubbbt. 
*<  Father  General,  &c.** 


,,:    i;     1 

-    1 

':■            1 

88 


KTSTlfiBIES  OF  ▲  OOITVBKT. 


The  Mother  Superior  felt  greatly  agitated,  as  she 

S erased  this  document,  and  scarcely  Knew  what  to 
0.  Here  was  an  immense  fortune  within  the  grasp 
of  the  order ;  but  she  upon  whose  life  it  dependeo, 
was  dead.  True,  no  one  knew  it  as  vet,  besides 
herself  and  Julia  ;  but  she  had  reason  to  believe  that 
Julia  had  heard  enough,  from  the  lips  of  the  dying 
nun,  to  have  influenced  her  miad  uufavourably  to- 
wards the  order,  and,  perhaps,  to  have  undone  the 
entire  work  of  the  last  fifteen  months.  0,  how 
deeply  she  regretted  her  want  of  consideration,  in 
permitting  Julia  to  attend  upon  the  sick  nun ;  but 
60  f  uUy  had  she  succeeded,  as  she  thought,  in  the 
work  that  she  had  planned  and  executed  as  re« 
f^arded  the  former,  and  such  was  the  tyrannical  dread 
in  which  she  held  every  member  of  the  household, 
that  she  could  not  suppose  it  possible  that  the  latter 
would  have  dared  to  say  one  word  to  Julia  about  the 
past;  until  her  apprehension  having  been  excited 
Dy  her  pupil's  long  absence, — for  she  had  not  come 
down  to  the  dinner-table,  as  usual, — she  had  ascend- 
ed to  the  sick  chamber,  and  there  overheard  a  por- 
tion of  what  passed,  as  has  already  been  seen. 
Should  Julia,  when  she  went  out  among  the  boar- 
ders, make  known  the  fact  of  the  nun's  deathj  it 
would  for  ever  destroy  all  hope  of  securing  the  in- 
heritance ;  and  even  if  she  could  prevent  this,  which 
would  be  a  very  difficult  affair,  because  of  the  im- 
pression that  it  might  make  upon  her  own  mind, 
still  the  dead  body  was  in  the  house,  and  must  be 
disposed  of  in  some  way,  without  the  knowledge  of 
any  member  of  the  household.  She  bit  her  lips  in 
very  intensity  of  thought ;  and  her  feelings  were 
wrought  up  to  a  high  pitch  of  excitement,  by  her 
malignity  to  the  dead  nun,  who,  she  feared,  had 
achieved,  although  unconsciously,  a  wonderful  re- 
tribution upon  herself  and  upon  the  order,  for  the 
wrongs  which  she  had  endured  at  their  hands;  by 
apprehension  that  Julia  was  lost  to  the  convent, 


,  as  Bhe 
irhatto 
9  grasp 
>eDdea, 


ve  that 
dying 
bbly  to- 
one  the 
0,  how 
tioD,  in 
n;  but 
,  in  the 
as  re- 
il  dread 
isehold, 
e  latter 
out  the 
excited 
>t  come 
iscend- 
a  por- 
1  seen. 
9  boar- 
eathj  it 
the  in- 
» which 
;he  im- 

mind, 
lUst  he 
)dge  of 
lips  in 

were 
by  her 
)d,  had 
:ul  re- 
'or  the 
Ib;  by 
nvent, 


1CT0TBBZXS  07  A  OONYBKT. 


89 


unless  something  could  be  done  to  prevent  it ;  and 
by  anxiety  to  bnng  order  out  of  this  chaos,  and  vic- 
tory out  of  this  apparrent  defeat ;  when  she  heard  a 
gentle  rap  at  her  chamber  door.  Instantly  passing 
from  the  oratory  into  her  bed-room,  where  Julia 
still  lay  upon  her  couch,  she  opened  the  door,  where 
stood  a  servant  to  inform  her  that  a  gentleman 
wished  to  see  her  in  the  parlour.  Not  supposing, 
for  a  moment,  that  it  might  be  Mr.  Moreton — whom 
of  all  other  persons  she  least  wished  to  see  at  that 
time,— -she  hastened  to  the  room  where  he  awaited 
her ;  neglecting,  as  she  left  her  chamber,  to  close 
the  door  behind  her.  Fresentlv,  Julia,  overhearing 
the  altercation  between  her  father  and  the  Superior, ' 
and  recognising  the  voice  of  the  former,  flew  down 
the  stairway,  and  rushed  into  her  father's  arms,  as 
has  before  been  related,  and  thus  escaped  from  the 
dangers  wluch  were  becoming  so  imminent  around 
her. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


The  Mother  Superior  outwitted—Cursing  and  praying- 
Hasty  summons  to  the  Father  Genenu-^Insulting  m 
dead— Jesuitical  conduct. 


le 


When  Mr.  Moreton  bore  Julia  uwaj  from  the  par- 
lour of  the  convent,  the  Mother  ;^uperior  stood  in 
speechress  amazement,  for  an  instant,  and  then,  has* 
tening  to  the  front  door,  watched  his  rapid  progress 
along  the  avenue,  until  he  was  lost  to  her  sight, 
when,  like  one  who  had  been  spell-bound  under  the 
influence  of  the  night-mare,  she  seemed  tc  become 
suddenly  aware  that  something  must  be  done,  Of 
Julia,  her  victim,  would  be  lost  to  her  for  ever,  and 
the  harvest  of  idl  her  schemings  be  destroyed,  just 
at  the  moment  when  it  was  ripe  fcr  the  sickle  of  the 
reaper. 
Palling  violently  the  Lull-bell,  she  ordered  the 
224  0 


00 


anrsTBBZBfl  of  a  oontbnt* 


servant  who  answered  the  summons,  to  call  two 
male  serrants  that  belonged  to  the  establishment, 
and  were  at  work  in  the  garden ;  but  whether,  dar- 
ing the  interval  that  elapsed  before  they  made  their 
appearance,  she  had  concluded  that  any  further 
srops  would  be  imprudent,  on  her  part,  at  that  time, 
or  because  she  thought  it  too  late  to  attempt  to  brim: 
back  the  fugitives,  her  purposes  were  changed ;  for, 
when  the  servants  came,  she  dismissed  them,  aud, 
with  a  dignified,  though  somewhat  quickened  step, 
ascended  the  great  hall  stairs  to  her  private  room. 

Here,  carefully  fastening  the  door,  she  threw  her- 
self at  full  length  upon  a  lounge,  at  one  side  of  the 
room ;  and,  placing  her  hand  upon  her  forehead,  as 
though  she  were  in  pain,  while  her  eyes  were  almost 
ready  to  start  from  their  sockets,  she  gave  vent  to 
the  most  violent  outbursts  of  passion ;  bitterly  curs- 
ing all  heretics,  and  calling  down  the  direst  male- 
dictions upon  Mr.  Moreton  and  his  rescued  daugh- 
ter* And  tiien,  her  thoughts  recurrine  to  the  scene 
which  had  taken  place  in  the  room  of  the  dying  nun, 
she  arose  hastily  from  her  recumbent  position,  and 
strode  towards  the  door,  as  if  she  were  about  to  exe- 
cute some  hurriedly-formed  purpose ;  but,  ere  she 
had  placed  her  hand  upon  the  fastening,  she  paused, 
for  a  moment,  and,  retracing  her  steps,  continued  to 
walk  from  one  end  of  the  large  apartment  to  the 
other,  for  some  length  of  time ;  her  steps  at  first  ra- 
pid and  excited,  but  graduall^r  becoming  more  mea- 
sured ;  until,  at  length,  entering  through  the  secret 
pannel  into  her  bed-chamber,  and  thence  into  the 
oratory,  and  kneeling  down  before  the  crucifix,  she 
remained  for  some  time  with  her  head  bowed  in 
prayer,  occasionally  heaving  a  convulsive  sob,  indi- 
cative of  the  extent  to  which  her  feelings  had  been 
excited. 

Arising  presently  from  her  kneeling  position,  with 
the  traoes  of  tears  upon  her  cheeks,  she  approached 
the  escritoire,  and,  drawing  forth  the  necessary  mate« 
rials,  wrote  a  note,  of  which  the  following  is  a  copy : 


41 

"Tot 

««You 
me  this 
ancecon 
sence  h 
coming. 


Havin 
to  her  < 
which  h 
answer  t 
hands,  ai 
ders  to  ti 
day  and 
Then,  re- 
in a  posi 
and  went 

How  si 
remains  < 
just  as  w 
with  Jnli 
the  poor 
exdamat 
fearfully 
death«lik 
lovelinesi 
anoe  a  sn 
parture, ' 
Mercy  st 

TheM 
looking  \ 
length  th 
withveri 

"Wha 
lets  bod: 


inrsnmiBfl  ov  ▲  ooktbkt. 


01 


^Cawvmi  of  Anntmciationf  Jiily  12, 1812. 

«  To  the  BeTerend  Father  General. 

<«  Most  Bbvbbbnd  aiid  Dbab  Sib, 

*<  Your  favour  of  the  10th  instant  was  received  by 
me  this  morning.  Business  of  the  utmost  import- 
ance connected  with  its  contents,  requires  your  pre- 
senoe  here  without  delay*.  Please  lose  no  time  in 
coming. 

'<  Yours,  most  respectfully  and  truly, 

"  Fbanoes. 
"  Mother  Superior,  &c." 

Having  folded  and  sealed  this  note,  she  retarned 
to  her  chamber,  and  pulled  hastily  the  bell-cord 
which  hung  near  her  bed.  On  a  nun  appearing,  in 
answer  to  the  summons,  she  placed  the  note  iu  her 
hands,  and  bade  her  give  it  to  the  Porter,  with  or* 
ders  to  take  it  instantly  to  New  York,  an.d,  riding 
day  and  night,  deliver  it  to  the  Father  General. 
Then,  re-entering  the  oratory,  to  see  if  all  were  there 
in  a  position  to  be  left,  she  fastened  her  escritoire, 
and  went  up  stairs  to  the  death  room. 

How  silent  was  all  there !  The  cold  and  pallid 
remains  of  the  Sister  Theresa  lay  upon  the  pallet, 
just  as  when  the  Mother  Superior  had  left  the  room 
with  Julia,  after  having  precipitated  the  death  of 
the  poor  nun,  by  her  sudden  appearance  and  harsh 
exclamation,  but  a  short  while  before.  Although 
fearfully  emaciated  and  wasted  with  disease,  the 
death-like  features  still  showed  traces  of  former 
loveliness;  and  there  sat  upon  the  marble  counten* 
ance  a  smile,  as  though,  just  at  the  moment  of  de- 
parture, the  penitent  had  caught  a  bright  vision  of 
Mercy  stooping  from  Heaven  to  pity  and  to  save. 

The  Mother  Superior  stood  for  a  few  moments, 
looking  upon  the  face  of  the  dead,  and,  catching  at 
length  the  expression  of  that  smile,  ground  her  teeth 
with  very  rage. 

**  What,"  said  she,  as  though  speaking  to  the  lite- 
leis  body— <*  smiling  art  thou  P    Smiling  at  me^  as 


M 


ICTBTBBXfiS  OF  A  OOITVBIIT. 


though  thou  hadflt  gained  a  victory  over  me  f  Dost 
thou  mook  me,  now  thou  art  dead,  as  thou  didst 
thwart  me  while  living;  p  Would  thou  were  capable 
of  feeling,  that  I  might  punish  thee,  vile  remains  of 
a  most  worthless  being.  But  know,  Emilie  de  Yere, 
whether  thy  polluted  spirit  hovers  still  in  this  room, 
or  is  suffering  purgatorial  pain  in  the  regions  of 
woe ;  know  that  Louise  St.  Aubyn  has  never  bean 
defeated  yet.  She  has  been  cruellv  deceived  ;  but 
she  has  had  her  revenge.  Aye,  and  she  will  yet  be 
still  more  fullj  avenged  upon  the  vile  paramour  that 
wrought  thy  fall  :^the  only  virtuous  act  of  all  his 
life.  Know,  too,  that,  though  thou  didst  turn  trai- 
tor, and  reveal  to  Julia  that  which  has  poisoned  her 
mind  against  my  order,  I  will  be  revenged  there. 
Poor  fool !  she  thinks  that,  because  she  is  in  her  fa- 
ther's house,  she  is  beyond  my  power.  But,  by  the 
Holy  Virgin,  and  b^  all  the  Saints  in  Heaven,  I 
swear  to  move  the  skies  above,  and  earth  and  hell 
beneath,  to  work  her  ruin.  She  shall  not  escape  me. 
Julia  shall  yet  be  the  vile,  polluted,  worthless  thing 
thou  art  and  has  been." 

Thus  insulting  the  lifeless  clay,  and  venting  her 
rage  upon  its  unheeding  ears,  the  Mother  Superior 
st^^d  for  some  minutes,  until  the  approaching  shades 
of  evenine  reminded  her  that  she  had  but  little  time 
left  for  the  accomplishment  of  the  purpose  which 
had  brought  her  to  that  death  chamber ;  which  was, 
to  gather  together  whatever  papers  she  might  per- 
chance find  m  the  trunk  of  the  deceased,  that  could 
Sossibly  be  made  to  subserve  the  interests  of  the  or- 
er,  in  procuring  possession  of  the  coveted  inheri- 
tance. Finding  nothing,  however,  she  closed  the 
door,  carefully  locking  it,  and,  leaving  the  dead  neg- 
lected as  the  living  had  been,  descended  to  her  room. 
Let  not  the  reader  imagine,  for  a  moment,  that  the 
character  of  the  Mother  Superior  has  been  too  dark- 
ly drawn*  It  is  the  character  of  one  who,  under  the 
.influence  of  a  dark  and  gloomy  form  of  superstitioDi 


mraTBBUB  ov  ▲  oommr. 


tnd  under  the  training  of  a  master  mind,  was  iollj 
prepared  for  the  indulgence  of  every  evil  motion^  the 
perpetration  of  everv  crime ;  while  the  black  heart 
within  was  coyered  over  with  a  self-control  whidi 
was  imperturbable,  when  circumstances  required  its 
exercise ;  and  an  hypocrisy,  refiued,  elegant,  and  ex- 
quisite. In  short,  the  Mother  Superior  was  a  Je- 
suit, and  a  fair  type  of  her  order.  None  but  a  Je- 
suit could  haye  gone  from  that  death  scene,  and  from 
the  agitating  deliberations  of  the  oratory,  into  the 
presence  of  a  man  whose  anger  she  had  just  reasons 
to  dread,  and  yet  preserye  a  cool  self-possession, 
and  a  control  oyer  ner  temper,  which  would  indicate 
a  life  tree  from  all  disquiet  and  given  up  to  re- 
ligious devotion,  but  most  strikingly  in  contrast  wiUi 
the  emotions  which  were  at  that  moment  agitating 
her  bosom.  None  but  a  Jesuit  could  have  risen  from 
prayer,  and,  in  a  few  minutes  after,  stand  by  the 
dead  body  of  one  who  had  fallen  a  victim  to  her  jea- 
lousy and  wrath,  and  deliberately  mock  and  curse 
that  helpless  mass  of  inanimate  clay.  She  was  a  Je- 
suit ;  and.  when  this  is  said,  we  cease  to  wonder  at 
what  would  otherwise  be  inexplicable. 


CHAPTEBXVin. 

The  Father  Qeneral  obeys  the  sttinmons  in  haste— Meeting 
between  him  and  the  Mother  Superior— A  vile  plot  con- 
ducted between  theoi—The  Mother  Superior  in  a  new 
character— The  Father  General  turned  grave-digger-^ 
Revolting  manner  of  burying  the  dead. 

Thb  messenger  who  had  been  despatched  with  the 
note  to  the  city,  with  orders  to  ride  day  and  night, 
had  complied  strictly  with  his  instructions,  and  ar- 
rived at  the  residence  of  the  Father  General,  b^  day- 
light the  next  morning ;  and  the  missive  which  he 
bore  was  handed  to  the  latter,  before  he  had  yet 
risen  from  his  bed.  Having  read  its  urgent  contents, 
he  immediately  ordered  a  horse  for  himselfianda 


I     1 


94 


inrflTBioBS  ov  ▲  ookyent. 


fresh  one  for  the  meBsenger,  and,  as  loon  as  he  had 
eaten  an  early  hreakfast,  started  for  theoonyeut; 
where  by  dint  of  riding  very  constantly,  and  as  fast 
as  his  animal,  which  was  a  very  fleet  one,  could  safe* 
ly  be  pushed,  he  arriyed  at  five  o'clock  on  the  after, 
noon  of  the  day  after  the  nun's  death. 

The  mother  Superior  met  him  at  the  front  door,  as 
he  dismounted  from  his  jaded  horse,  and  conducted 
him  at  once  into  the  oratory,  where,  with  as  little 
delay  as  possible,  she  made  him  acquainted  with  the 
present  position  of  things,  both  as  regarded  the  de- 
cease of  the  Sister  Theresa,  and  the  escape  of  Julia, 
and  asked  his  advice. 

The  Father  General  saw,  at  once,  the  difficulties 
which  were  involved  in  the  affair ;  but,  with  the 
readiness  of  invention  for  which  the  Jesuit  is  so  re- 
markable, and  for  which  he  in  particular  was  so  dis- 
tinguished, proposed  that  the  dead  body  should  be 
buried,  that  night,  quietly,  without  the  knowledge 
of  any  member  of  the  family ;  and,  in  order  to  this, 
the  Mother  Superior  and  himself  must  perform  the 
duty.  This  being  accomplished,  it  would  be « their 
next  business  to  substitute  some  one  for  the  deceas- 
ed, who  might  bear  some  resemblance  to  her ;  to  pro- 
cure witnesses  from  without  the  establishment,  to 
swear  that  she  was  the  true  Emilie  de  Yere.  This 
could  be  more  easily  done,  as  the  proof  would  have 
to  be  made  in  Louisiana,  and  not  in  New  York.  The 
members  of  the  convent  knew  nothing  of  the  death 
of  Sister  Theresa,  and  could  be  kept  in  entire  ignor- 
ance of  it,  by  raising  a  report,  iu  the  establishment, 
that  she  had  fled,  which  would  account  for  her  ab- 
sence ;  though,  indeed,  such  was  the  neglect  with 
which  the  poor  nun  had  been  treated  in  the  last  few 
weeks  of  her  illness,  especially  as  it  wag  generally 
known  by  those  who  had  previously  attended  to  her 
at  all,  that  Julia  had  undertaken  to  be  her  nurse, 
that  not  a  single  member  of  the  household  knew  any 
thing  about  her  real  condition,  during  that  time.   As 


forJalia 
the  mati 
could  be 
make  an 
be  kept 
and  by  1 
Thisc 
cussed  b 
ed,  as  tb 
Mother 
Father  ( 
and,  lea' 
the  deat 
while  he 
could  be 
Takin 
tered  tb( 
edtofiu( 
left  it  on 
a  very  s 
same  sm 
the  sami 
was  in  s 
part  of  t 
that  of  1 
sewed  u 
and,  lea 
retume< 
ther  Gei 
Thel 
grave  a 
the  gari 
the  carl 
ance  of 
fore, in 
stantly 
pose,  w 
abunda 
tablishi 


ICTf TBBZBS  Of  Jk  OOMVHNT. 


95 


for  Julia,  ibe  would  in  all  probability  noTttr  hear  of 
the  matter  of  the  inheritance ;  and,  u  neceeisarj,  she 
oould  be  watched.  Should  she  or  any  of  her  friende 
make  any  attempt  to  interfere  in  the  affair,  she  must 
be  kept  out  of  the  way,  and  silenced,  at  all  hazards, 
and  by  whatever  means. 

This  outline  of  a  plan  of  operations  was  freely  dis- 
cussed by  the  two  counsellors,  and  at  length  adopt- 
ed, as  the  YBTj  best  under  the  circumstances.  The 
Mother  Superior  then  ordered  some  supper  for  the 
Father  General  to  be  placed  in  the  private  parlour  ; 
and,  leaving  him  to  finish  this,  she  went  up  alone  to 
the  death  chamber,  to  prepare  the  body  for  burial ; 
while  he  would  repair  to  the  garden,  to  see  what 
could  be  done  there  towards  preparing  a  grave. 

Taking  with  her  a  needle  and  some  thread,  she  en- 
tered the  room  where  the  body  lay,  and  was  surpris- 
ed to  find  it  much  iu  the  same  state  in  which  she  had 
left  it  on  the  previous  afternoon,  and  that  there  was 
a  very  slight  indication  of  decay  perceptible.  The 
same  smile  sat  upon  the  countenance,  and  produced 
the  same  state  of  angry  feeling  in  her  mind,  but  she 
was  in  no  mood  to  tarry  in  that  remote  and  lonely 
part  of  the  convent,  without  any  other  company  than 
that  of  the  deceased  nun,  she  hurriedly  and  rudely 
sewed  up  the  body  in  the  sheet  upon  which  it  was ; 
and,  leaving  it  thus  without  any  other  preparation, 
returned  to  the  room  in  which  uie  had  left  the  Fa- 
ther General. 

The  latter  had  in  the  meanwhile,  selected  for  the 
grave  a  sunken  spot  in  the  extreme  distant  comer  of 
the  garden,  which  was  depressed  some  two  feet  in 
the  earth,  and  which,  indeed,  had  much  the  appear- 
ance of  an  old  grave.  This  spot  he  had  noticed  be- 
fore, in  walking  through  the  garden ;  and  it  had  in-* 
stantly  occurred  to  him  that  it  would  serve  the  pur- 
pose, with  very  little  preparation.  There  was  an 
abundance  of  quick  lime  alwavs  kept  about  the  es- 
tablishment ;  and,  by  digging  the  grave  a  foot  deep* 


96 


UTSTEBIES  OF  ▲  OONTBKT* 


er,  pnttiog  on  the  body  plenty  of  this  lime,  and  fill- 
ing up  the  opening  to  within  a  few  inches  of  the  sur- 
face, covering  the  whole  with  rubbish,  it  would  never 
be  discovered ;  especially  as  it  was  situated  where 
nothing  was  cultivated,  that  season.  Had  there  not 
been  sufficient  reasons  whv  no  member  of  the  family 
should  have  any  knowleage  of  what  was  transpir- 
ing, lest  it  should  come  to  the  ears  of  some  of  the 
many  boarding  pupils  then  in  the  establishment,  the 
body  might  have  been  disposed  of  in  a  deep  vault 
under  a  wing  of  the  building,  which  was  constructed 
there  for  the  purpose  of  receiving  such  remains  as 
they  did  not  wish  to  bury,  or  to  attach  much  notice 
to ;  where  these  were  speedily  destroyed  by  means 
of  quick  lime.  But,  as  this  was  onl^  accessible  by 
jiroing  through  a  portion  of  the  establishment  where 
they  could  hardly  hope  to  avoid  notice,  the  spot  in 
the  garden  was  preferred. 

Sometime  after  the  convent  clock  told  the  hour  of 
ten,  an  hour  at  which,  by  the  rules  of  the  house, 
every  inmate  of  the  family  must  be  in  bed,  the  Fa- 
ther General  proceeded  to  the  garden,  and,  furnish- 
ing himself  with  the  necessary  tools,  from  a  small 
buildmg  in  which  they  were  kept,  had  succeeded,  in 
the  course  of  a  couple  of  hours,  in  making  ready  the 
receptacle  for  the  last  repose  of  the  very  nun,  who, 
three  years  before,  had  met  him  in  that  same  garden, 
at  the  dead  hour  of  midnight,  and  whom  he  had  so 
basely  ruined  afterwards.  One  might  suppose  that 
the  whole  scene  would  have  come  up  in  his  mind, 
and  that  the  image  of  that  then  lovely  being  would 
have  haunted  his  memory  and  harrowed  his  soul, 
while  he  was  thus  engaged  in  preparing  a  spot  to 
hide  her  body ;  and  so  it  did,  but  the  Jesuit  shook 
off  all  sense  of  uneasiness,  and  set  about  the  work 
with  all  his  physical  strength,  while  he  kept  his 
thoughts  busied  with  planning  for  the  future.  In 
spite  of  himself,  however,  when,  ai  the  clock  sounded 
ipidnight,  and,  returning  to  the  house  (or  the  eoxpf^ 


Mother 
lime,whi< 
steps;  an 
of  Sister ' 
resting  in 
spot  mai 
bish ;  wh 
perior  w( 
ting  how 
estate  of 
venound 


ICYSTEBIBS  07  ▲  OONVBNT. 


97 


he  passed  the  plum  tree  beneath  which  he  had  stood, 
three  years  before,  with  his  arm  around  the  unfor- 
tunate Sister  Theresa,  he  started  involuntarily,  and 
with  a  shudder,  as,  by  the  light  of  the  moon,  he 
thought  he  saw  her  advancing  to  meet  him ;  and  it 
was  no  small  relief  to  his  feelings,  when  he  discover- 
ed that  it  was  the  Mother  Superior,  who  was  com- 
ing to  see  what  progress  he  had  made. 

Fully  realizing  the  extreme  delicacy  of  his  posi- 
tion, under  the  peculiar  circumstances  which  sur- 
rounded both  of  them  on  this  occasion,  and  in  the 
existence  of  recollections  which  came  up  fresh  to  the 
memories  of  both,  while  neither  dared  to  make  any 
allusion  to  them,  the  Father  General  gracefully  of- 
fered his  arm  to  the  Mother  Superior,  and,  playfully 
complimenting  her  upon  her  good  looks,  led  her  to 
the  house. 

Here,  quietly  ascending  to  the  room  in  which  the 
dead  nun  lay,  the  Superior  locked  the  door,  and  bade 
the  General  enter ;  narrowly  observing  his  counten- 
ance as  he  approached  the  bed-side,  while  she  held 
a  candle  in  her  hand,  and,  as  she  perceived  a  slight 
shudder  to  pass  through  his  frame  as  he  took  the 
body  in  his  arms,  and  threw  it  upon  his  shoulder,  a 
Bconif  ul  smile  might  have  beeu  seen  upon  her  proud 
features ;  but  which  she  took  good  care  should  not 
be  witnessed  by  him. 

They  thus  passed  down  again  to  the  garden ;  the 
Mother  Superior  bearing  in  her  hand  a  bucket  of 
lime,  which  she  had  previously  placed  near  the  door 
steps ;  and,  in  the  course  of  half  an  hour,  the  remains 
of  Sister  Theresa,  unshrouded  and  uncofELned,  were 
restiog  in  the  narrow  bed  prepared  for  her,  and  the 
spot  marked  only  by  the  up-piled  briars  and  rub- 
bish ;  while  the  Father  General  and  the  Mother  Su- 
perior were  seated  in  the  oratory  of  the  latter,  plot- 
ting how  they  might  secure  to  the  order  the  large 
estate  of  her  father,  left  to  hex  on  the  condition  of 
?enottnoing  the  C»t»olio  f aitbi  and  throwing  aside 


!'-.'M.^-     il 


r 


pi 

IK.  fc 
1  ■  I  ■ 


m. 


"'  h 


fit.'    ii 


98 


mBTBBIBB  OV  ▲  CONVENT. 


her  nnn'i  dress;  a  condition  with  wbioh  she  would 
most  gladly  have  complied,  had  she  been  alive,  and 
had  it  been  in  her  power;  though  poverty  for  her 
life  long,  and  not  unbounded  wealth,  had  been  the 
result.  She  had,  however,  exchanged  her  religious 
habit,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  for  one  of  glorious  sheen, 
and  her  prison-house  on  earth  for  a  noble  mansion 
in  the  skies.  The  quiet  smile  of  hope  whioh  played 
upon  the  cold  features  of  the  clay  whioh  her  freed 
spirit  had  left  behind,  gave  token  that,  though  un- 
friended here,  she  had  found  friends  there,  *^  where 
the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  the  weary  are 
for  ever  at  rest." 

An  Omniscient  eye,  however,  had  beheld  this  deed 
of  darkness;  and,  though  the  perpetrators  might 
baffle  aud  deceive  their  short-sighted  fellow-crea- 
tures, yet  they  could  not  escape  the  detection  of  Him 
who  seeth  all  things. 

The  next  morning,  just  at  daybreak,  the  Father 
General  was  seen  to  enter  his  own  room  on  the  first 
floor,  by  the  Sister  Porter,  as  she  descended  to  ring 
the  bell  for  matins.  She  knew  not  where  he  had 
spent  the  night,  but  had  her  own  surmises,  which, 
however,  prudent  woman  that  she  was,  she  kept  to 
herself. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Daplicity^The  plot  thickens—Beward  offered  for  the  mis- 
sins;  nun— A  substitute  found— A  third  party  in  the  plot 
—Threatened  tumult. 

Whbn  about  to  sit  down  to  the  breakfast-table,  the 
next  morning,  the  Mother  Superior,  turning  to  Sis- 
ter Martina,  in  the  most  natural  manner  imaginable, 
as  if  it  were  an  every  day  occurrence,  told  her  to  go 
to  Sister  Theresa's  room,  and  see  if  she  wanted  any* 
thing ;  remarking,  as  she  did  so,  to  the  Father  Gen- 
eral, that  this  Sister  had  been  sick,  for  some  length 
of  time,  and  that  she  was  afraid  she  would  oontinne 
to  be  so,  for  some  weeks  longer,  though  id^e  did  not 
apprehend  a  iterious  result  in  the  case. 


1 


The  mo 
terMartii 
designed 
time  to 
told  the 
not  in  her 
sion,  as  if 

«  Not  ii 
well*affec 

"No,  m 

«  She  m 
same  part 
rior;  "go 

"I  have 
*(  but  lea 

«*  'Tis  V 
do  not  km 
tina,  into 
can  find 
feel  uneas 
and  board 
tables,  she 
resa  that 
answered 

On  repo 
the  missin 
the  house 
tern,  and  \ 
that  she  m 
she  had  a1 
strictly  se 

The  Si 
deal  of  \ 
seemed  to 
in  an  uprc 
—others  s 
versation- 
der  at  so  i 
to  be  mori 
Inew  all  i 


SCYSTEIIIES  01*  ▲  OONTEIIT. 


M 


The  morning  meal  was  nearly  finiahed,  when  Sis- 
ter Martina  gUded  into  the  room,  and,  in  what  was 
designed  to  appear  as  a  whisper,  but  at  the  same 
time  to  be  overbeara  by  the  Father  General,  she 
told  the  Mother  Superior  that  Sister  Theresa  was 
not  in  her  room,  and  that  it  seemed  to  be  in  confu- 
sion, as  if  she  had  left  it  hastily. 

'*  Not  iu  her  room  P"  repeated  the  Superior,  with 
well-affected  surprise. 

"No,  madam,"  answered  the  nun. 

^  She  must  be  in  some  of  the  other  rooms,  in  the 
same  part  of  the  house,  then,"  returned  the  Supe- 
rior ;  "  go,  my  good  Martina,  and  see  if  she  is  not." 

*^  I  have  looked  into  them  all,"  was  the  response ; 
<<but  I  cannot  find  her  anywhere." 

« 'Tis  very  strange,"  remarked  the  Superior—''! 
do  not  know  what  to  make  of  it.  Go,  Sister  Mar- 
tina, into  every  room  in  the  house,  and  see  if  yon 
can  find  her,  and  let  me  know  immediately,  for  I 
feel  uneasy  about  her."  Then,  turning  to  the  nuns 
and  boarders,  as  they  sat  in  long  lines  at  the  two 
tables,  she  asked  if  any  of  them  had  seen  Sister  The- 
resa that  morning  ;  and,  as  might  be  expected^  was 
answered  in  the  negative. 

On  report  being  made  to  the  Mother  Superior  that 
the  missing  nun  could  not  be  found  anywhere  about 
the  house,  orders  were  given  that  the  well,  the  cis- 
tern, and  all  of  the  places  into  which  it  was  possible 
that  she  might  have  fallen,  if  in  her  weakness  of  body 
she  had  attempted  to  pass  about  the  yard,  should  be 
siarictly  searched ;  but  iu  vain,  she  was  still  unfound. 

The  Superior's  countenance  betrayed  a  great 
deal  of  wellfeigned  anxiety ;  the  Father  General 
seemed  to  be  greatly  disturbed ;  the  whole  house  was 
in  an  uproar— nuns  running  here  and  running  there 
—others  standing  about  in  groups,  in  earnest  con- 
versation—all completely  mystified,  and  lost  in  won- 
der at  so  strange  an  occurrence,  while  none  seemed 
to  be  more  so  than  the  two  individuals  present,  who 
Icnew  all  about  the  affair. 


t:  pi;,.; 


mi 

i: 


100 


SCTSTEBIfiS  OF  ▲  QOJSnmfT. 


At  lenffih,  when  all  farther  search  appeared  to  be 
useless,  ttie  Mother  Superior,  speaking  so  as  to  be 
heud  hv  most  of  those  present,  requested  the  Father 
General  to  accompany  her  to  her  private  parlour,  in 
order,  as  she  said,  that  she  might  consult  him  fur- 
ther  in  reference  to  this  truly  mysterious  disappear- 
ance of  one  of  their  number,  and  as  to  the  steps 
which  it  might  be  necessary  to  take  in  the  premises. 
Having  spent  a  half  hour  thus,  as  thef  amily  sup- 
posed,  they  again  appeared  in  the  parlour,  in  the 
midst  of  the  assembled  nuns  and  boarders ;  and  the 
Father  General  announced  it  as  his  deliberate  opi- 
nion that  the  missing  nun  had  escaped  from  the 
convent,  during  the  previous  night,  by  the  aid  of 
some  person  or  persons  unknown ;  aud,  calliog  for 
^s  horse,  intimated  his  intention  m  making  diligent 
search  for  her,  that  she  might  be  apprehended  and 
brought  back ;  at  the  same  time,  requiring  the  Su- 
perior to  degrade  the  Sister  Porter  from  her  office, 
for  want  of  due  vigilance  in  the  discharge  of  her 
duties,  unless  it  could  be  made  to  appear  that  she 
was  not  to  blame.  So  saying,  and  giving  his  bles- 
sing to  all  present,  the  Father  General  mounted  his 
horse,  which  had  meanwhile  been  brought  to  the 
door,  and  returned  to  the  citjr. 

In  the  papers  of  the  following  day,  an  advertise- 
ment appeared,  couched  in  such  language  as  this: 

"FIFTY  DOLLAES  EEWAED. 

"  Left  the  Convent  of  the  Annunciation,  on  the 
night  of  the  13th  instant,  in  a  state  of  mental  de- 
rangement, produced  by  fever,  a  nun,  who  is  doubt- 
less not  far  from  the  establishment,  but  who  has  not 
yet  been  found,  although  diligent  search  has  been 
made  for  her.  The  humane  will  greatly  reUeve  the 
distressed  feelin<;s  of  her  sister  nuns,  by  giving  any 
information  that  they  may  have  in  the  premises,  and 
receive  the  above  reward  for  the  restoration  to 

"  Feanoois  Jubebt, 
"  No.  87,  Chamber  Street,  New  York.** 
«Vw/y  lith,  1812; 


»» 


inrsTEBxss  of  a  cokvekt. 


101 


bred  to  be 
as  to  be 
le  Father 
irlour,  in 
him  fur- 
isappear- 
the  stepg 
premises, 
nily  sup. 
ir,  in  the 
;  and  the 
irate  opi. 
from  the 
he  aid  of 
illiog  for 
I  diligent 
ided  and 
1^  the  Su- 
er  office, 
;e  of  her 
that  she 
his  bles« 
mted  his 
t  to  the 

ivertise* 
this: 

on  the 
ntal  de- 
doubt- 
has  not 
as  been 
ieve  the 
{ing  any 
8,  and 
to 


Anxious  to  give  this  pretended  escape  of  the  sick 
Bun  as  much  publicity  as  possible,  without  appear* 
ing  to  do  so,  tne  General,  durinp^  the  day,  sent  some 
of  nis  confident  emissaries  into  different  parts  of  the 
city,  to  talk  about  the  affair  in  various  crowded  re- 
sorts, as  an  item  of  news,  until,  by  noon,  it  was 
noised  abroad  everywhere,  and  produced  quite  an 
excited  state  of  feeling.  Various  parties  of  zealous 
Catholics  visited  the  convent,  and  conversed  with 
the  Mother  Superior,  during  the  week  following ; 
and  others  scoured  the  surrounding  country,  in 
search  of  the  fugitive,  but  without  success.  The 
excitement  at  length  died  away,  and  the  affair  was 
well  nigh  forgotten. 

Meanwhile,  the  Father  General  had,  by  means  of 
his  own  indefatigable  industry,  for  he  dared  not  en* 
trust  the  matter  to  the  agency  of  any  third  person, 
succeeded  in  finding  a  nun  of  about  the  same  age, 
height,  colour  of  hair,  complexion,  and  general  con- 
tour of  person  and  features,  with  the  deceased  nun ; 
andj  in  bringing  her,  unseen  and  closely  veiled,  tra- 
vellmg  in  a  dose  carrriage,  and  principally  by  night 
from  tiie  convent  in  Canada,  where  he  had  discov- 
ered her,  to  the  dwelling  of  Mr.  Wilmot,  in  New 
York  city,  where  he  stealthily  left  her,  about  one 
month  after  the  pretended  disappearance  of  the  mis- 
sing nun. 

Ihis  Mr.  Wilmot  was  a  member  of  the  Episcopal 
Church,  nominally,  but  really  a  lay  Jesuit  in  cus- 
guise— and  with  him  the  Father  General  had  ar- 
ranged the  whole  matter,  with  the  connivance  of 
the  wife  of  this  supposed  Episcopalian ;  a  handsome 
douceur  beini^^the  reward  of  their  iniquity.  It  may 
be  proper,  also,  to  say  that  Mr.  Wilmot  was  a  smaU 
grocer,  at  the  comer  of  two  streets,  somewhat  re- 
mote from  the  centre  of  the  city.  It  was  nearly  mid- 
night when  the  nun  entered  the  house,  disguised  in 
an  ample  travelling  dress,  which  completely  con- 
cealed her  religious  habit. 


'  r 


■.  ..  t 


YV\- 


102 


HTSTERXEB  OV  A.  OONVEMT* 


Next  morninfif,  Mr.  Wilmot  took  care  to  mention, 
in  confidence,  to  some  of  his  oustomers,  that  during 
the  preTious  ni^ht,  and  jast  as  his  family  was  retir* 
innf  to  rest,  between  ten  and  eleven  o'clock,  a  beauti* 
ful  nun,  who  bore  traces  of  recent  illness,  had  knock- 
ed at  his  front  door,  and,  appearing;  greatly  terrified 
when  he  went  to  see  who  it  was,  rushed  into  the 
passage,  and,  falling  upon  her  knees,  implored  him 
to  take  pity  upon  ner,  as  a  poor  nun  who  had  fled 
from  most  dreadful  persecutions  in  a  convent,  some 
distance  off,  and  to  afford  her  protection,  until  she 
could  write  to  her  father  to  come  and  take  her  home. 
He  then  gave  quite  an  interesting  account  of  the 
reception  which  he  and  his  wife  had  given  to  the 
poor  creature,  and  told  his  friends  that  he  had  no 
doubt,  from  her  story,  that  she  was  the  nun  con- 
cerning whom  a  reward  of  fifty  dollars  had  been 
offered,  about  a  month  ago,  in  the  city  newspapers ; 
but  that  he  should  scorn  to  betray  the  innocent  suf- 
ferer into  the  hands  of  those  wretched  priests,  and 
would  protect  her,  as  long  as  she  choose  to  stay  in 
his  house. 

As  might  naturally  be  supposed,  and  as  was  in- 
tended by  the  crafty  grocer,  who  had  his  cue  from 
the  Father  General,  these  friends  of  his,  to  whom 
this  secret  was  confided,  thought  it  too  good  to  keep, 
and  so  relieved  their  burdened  minds  by^  sharing 
their  confidence  with  some  of  their  neifjfhbours. 
These,  in  their  turn,  thinking  that  a  division  of  res- 
ponsibility was  "  within  the  line  of  safe  precedents," 
imparted  the  secret  to  their  friends,  until,  by  ten 
o'clock  that  morning,  a  large  crowd  had  gathered 
about  the  grocer's  door,  clamorous  to  see  the  escaped 
nun.  Closing  his  shop  door,  however,  and  seoding 
off  post  haste  for  a  body  of  police  to  protect  bis 
dwelling,  and  for  some  two  or  three  clergymen  of 
different  denominations,  as  well  as  a  lawyer  of  some 
eminence  with  whom  he  wished  to  consult  as  to  what 
course  be  should  pursaei  he,  in  the  meantime,  i^ 


IRBTBBXBS  OF  A  OOIWBNT. 


103 


peared  at  an  upper  window,  and  told  the  assembled 
crowd,  which  was  every  moment  increasing,  that  it 
was  true  that  he  had  given  protection  to  a  friendless 
nun,  who  had  claimed  it  at  his  hands,  and  that  he 
was  determined  to  f^uard  her  with  his  life,  nntil  she 
should  go  forth  from  his  house,  of  her  own  accord, 
or  he  had  had  time  to  take  counsel  with  those  for 
whom  he  had  sent,  and  who  were  more  experienced 
in  such  matters  than  himself. 

This  declaration  was  heard  with  cheers  by  thePro- 
testants,  and  hisses  and  groans  by  the  Catholics,  in- 
stigated, but  held  in  check,  by  the  emissaries  of  the 
Father  General,  who,  from  a  neighbourincr  house, 
in  which  he  had  concealed  himself-  the  house  of 
a  member  of  that  church— directed  the  movements 
of  his  party. 

*<But  the  nun  is  crazy,''  shouted  some  of  the 
Catholics,  **  and  does  not  know  what  she  is  doing." 
"  She  is  not  crazy," — replied  the  grocer ; — "  she 
is  no  more  crazy  than  you  are.  She  is  an  exceed- 
ingly sensible  woman,  and  knows  very  well  what 
she  IS  about.'' 

**I  demand  that  you  give  her  up  to  me,"  said  a 
very  genteelly  dressed  man,  who  now  made  his  ap« 
pearance  in  front  of  the  mob.  ''  I  make  this  demand 
m  the  name  of  the  Spiritual  Father  who  has  the 
oharae  of  her." 
"I  shall  do  no  such  thing,"  said  the  grocer. 
'*  You  must,  or  we  will  take  her  by  force,*'  replied 
the  spokesman,  who  looked  around  him,  to  see  how 
many  he  could  depend  upon,  in  the  crowd,  to  aid 
bim  in  the  assault.  ^ 

'*  I  command  you  to  keep  the  peace,"  said  amagis* 
trate,  followod  by  a  bevy  of  police,  who  advanced, 
and  laidhishand  upon  the  shoulder  of  the  belligerent. 
'*  I  shall  permit  no  violence  here,  my  friends," — ^he 
added— -"the  proper  authorities  must  decide  this 
matter;  and  I  Imow  you  are  too  good  citizens  to 
wml  it  out  of  their  hands.'' 


!:'-  1 


W  ' 

1  ^ 

^Hf-V' 

■  %. .'. 

■ ,  'IIIm;     ... 


104 


1CT8TBBXBS  OF  ▲  OONVEMT* 


<*  That  is  the  right  way.  That  is  right !"  cried  out 
a  score  of  yoices — "  let  the  law  decide  it." 

Meanwhile,  the  persoDS  sent  for  had  arrired ;  and 
it  was  determined  that  the  nun  should  present  her* 
self,  under  a  strong  escort  of  police,  before  the  city 
authorities,  and  claim  their  protection,  as  heiD(( 
stronper  and  more  efficient  than  that  of  any  private 
individual. 

In  a  few  minutes,  a  carriage  was  brought  to  the 
grocer's  door,  in  which  the  nun,  together  with  Dr. 
Chine,  an  Episcopal  minister,  the  Bey.  Mr.  Scott,  a 
Presbyterian  clergyman,  and  the  Bev.  Mr.  Fletcher, 
of  the  Methodist  church,  were  seated;  while  the 
magistrate  and  his  civil  force  surrounded  the  carri- 
age, and  effectually  guarded  them  from  the  show  of 
resistance  and  attack,  which  was  made  by  the  Ca- 
tholic portion  of  the  crowd,  but  which  was  too  well 
trained,  however,  to  strike  without  a  signal  from 
their  leaders,  who  were  thickly  interspersed  among 
them,  and  held  them  in  perfect  control,  although  there 
were  not  a  few  hot-headed  Irishmen  in  the  midit 


CHAPTEB  XX. 

The  pretended  nnn  undergoes  a  judical  exaini]iation--Je- 
suitical  manceiivriDg— An  apt  pupil—The  inquiry  ter- 
minates in  favour  of  the  supposed  nun. 

Abbtved  at  the  mayor's  office,  the  nun,  who  gave 
her  name  as  Emilie  de  Vere,  otherwise  called  by  tiie 
appellation,  as  a  religieuse,  of  Sister  Theresa,  stated 
that,  in  consequence  of  persecution  and  neglect  in 
the  Convent  of  Annunciation,  she  had  fled  from  that 
establishment,  about  a  month  ago ;  had  reached  the 
city  on  the  last  evening,  and  now  claimed  the  pro- 
tection of  the  city  authorities,  until  she  could  write 
to  her  father,  who  resided  in  the  south,  and  from 
whom  she  had  not  heard  for  many  years,  to  come 
and  take  her  home ;  declaring,  in  the  most  solemn 
manner,  with  bands  uplifted  to  heaveoi  and  tears  in 


inrSTEBXBS  OV  ▲  GONVEITT. 


105 


her  eyei,  whiob  drew  tears  in  turn  from  almost  every 
eye  in  the  house,  his  honour  the  mayor  not  excepted 
^that  she  then  and  for  ever  abjured  Boman  Catho- 
licism, and  all  allegiance  to  pope  or  priest— beseech* 
ing  those  before  whom  she  then  stood,  not  to  suffer 
her  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  her  enemies  again,  as, 
in  that  event,  her  life  would  most  inevitably  be  the 
forfeit.  She  acted  her  part  to  perfection,  and  com- 
pletely imposed  upon  all  present. 

Francois  Jubert,  the  Father  General,  then  stepped 
forward,  and  declared  that  he  had  the  spiritual 
charge  of  the  nuns  belonging  to  the  Oonvent  of  the 
Anunciation— that  the  nun  was  correct  in  stating 
that  she  had  fled  from  the  establishment,  about  a 
month  since,  and  that  she  was  the  same  for  whose 
recovery  he  had  offered  a  reward  of  fifty  dollars,  on 
the  14th  of  July  last,  but  that  it  was  not  true  that 
she  had  been  persecuted  or  neglected— on  the  con- 
trary, he  affirmed  that  she  had  been  most  kindly 
cared  for  bv  the  Mother  Superior,  and  by  all  the 
members  of  the  family ;  adding,  that  the  nun  had 
become  crazy  by  means  of  a  severe  spell  of  sickness, 
the  traces  of  which  her  pale  countenance  still  bore, 
and  that  this  state  of  mental  aberration  had  led  her 
to  take  the  step  which  she  had.      He  concluded  by 
expressing  the  hope  that  his  honour,  the  mayor, 
would  not  suffer  the  Catholic  Church  to  be  scanda- 
lized by  the  wild  ravings  of  an  insane  nun ;  but  that 
he  would  order  her  surrender  to  him,  that  he  might 
take  her  back  to  her  kind  friends,  the  Mother  Supe- 
rior and  the  sisters  of  charity,  whose  hearts  were 
now  filled  with  disquietude  at  her  absence,  and  with 
apprehensions  for  her  safety.    While  tiius  address- 
ing himself  to  the  mayor,  he  cast  looks  of  paternal 
regard  and  pity  upon  the  nun,  and  even  shed  a  tear, 
as  if  in  commiseration  of  her  unfortunate  condition. 
The  ministers  present,  however,  in  their  turn,  ex- 
pressed their  confidence  in  the  sanity  of  the  nun, 
and  declared  that  they  could  not  believe,  without 
224  B 


'  I 


"n 


106 


mrsTBBXBi  ow  ▲  oomrxHT. 


further  evidenoe  than  they  had,  that  the  declaration 
of  insanity,  made  bv  the  priest,  was  anything  more 
than  a  ruse  to  get  the  poor  girl  back  into  his  posses- 
sion. 

The  mayor  then  sent  for  two  of  the  ablest  phyii. 
ciaos  iu  the  city,  aod  requested  them  to  examine  the 
nuii  fully,  and  to  satisfy  themselyes  as  to  the  condi- 
tion of  her  miud.  This  request  they  complied  with ; 
and,  having  conversed  with  her  there  in  the  open 
court,  for  more  than  an  hour,  assisted  at  times  by 
questions  from  the  clergymen— they  declared,  upon 
oath,  that,  so  far  from  her  being  crazy,  she  was  in 
the  full  possession  of  vigorous  faculties  of  miud,  of 
eztraordmary  power,  and  was,  upon  the  whole,  one 
of  the  most  intellectual  women  they  ever  conversed 
with  in  their  lives. 

The  Father  General  here  interfered,  and,  stated 
that  hers  was  a  case  monomania,  and  that,  while  she 
could  converse  intelligently  enough  upon  every  other 
subject— if  they  would  introduce  a  topic  which  he 
would  name  to  them  privately,  they  would  find  that, 
in  a  few  moments,  she  would  become  perfectly  wild 
upon  it. 

Having  whispered  this  topic  in  their  ears,  in  re- 
ference to  which  he  had  declared  her  to  be  a  mono- 
maniac, the  physicians  proceeded  to  converse  with 
her  upon  it,  for  some  time ;  and,  although  it  was  one 
of  her  exceeding  delicacy,  and  she  was  talking  with 
those  who  were  entire  strangers  to  her,  yet  such  was 
the  modesty  of  her  replies,  and  so  rational  were  they, 
that  her  interrogators  indip;nantly  affirmed  that  it 
was  an  oatrageous  trifling  with  the  time  of  the  court, 
and  more  especially,  with  the  feelings  of  the  inte- 
resting lady  ;  for  she  was  perfectly  free  from  all  traces 
of  insanity  as  any  individual  of  them  all  there  present. 

His  honour  the  mayor  then  asked  the  nun  if  she 
had  any  place  in  the  city  in  yiew,  where  she  would 
wish  to  stay,  until  her  father  could  be  written  to; 
and  xeceivingy  for  answer,  that  she  would  prefer  ze^ 


appoint 
took  cb| 

Eolice 
orne  t 
resideii 
Here 
for  a  se 
in  his  f  I 
at  nigh 
General 
ho  mind 
stances, 
about  it 
quiet  by 


The  Path 
nitui 
Gencj 

THBres 
was  a  hi 
first  clai 
dining  i 
ingrooi 
twolarj 
the  tbir 
both;  a 
of  thee 
Which  t 


HTSTEBXER   07  ▲  0ONYE17T. 


107 


laration 
Lg  more 
posses* 

t  phyii- 
nine  the 
9  condi- 
1  with ; 
16  open 
imes  by 
d,  upon 
was  in 
nind,  of 
>l6,  one 
nyersed 

1,  stated 
'hile  she 
ry  other 
^hich  he 
nd  that, 
ly  wild 

inre- 
mono- 
le  with 


moining  in  the  family  whose  uroteotion  she  had  first 
claimed,  it  it  was  thought  sue  for  her  to  be  there ; 
and  Mr.  Wilmot  stating  that  he  would  give  bond 
and  security,  io  any  sum  rec^uired  by  the  mayor,  for 
the  safe  keeping  una  rendition  of  the  nun  whenever 
called  upon  to  do  so,  it  was  ordered  that  she  be  re- 
turued  to  his  house,  and  there  suffered  to  remain  un- 
molested. 

The  Father  General  bit  his  lip,  as  if  in  anfrry  dis« 
appointment,  and  left  the  room ;  while  Mr.  Wilmot 
took  charge  of  the  nun,  and,  under  the  escort  of  a 
police  officer,  re-entering  the  carriage  which  had 
borne  them  to  the  mayor's  office,  was  driven  to  his 
resideuce. 

Here  the  nun  soon  exchanged  her  religious  habit 
for  a  secular  dress ;  and,  as  she  dwelt  a  quiet  inmate 
in  his  family,  never  going  out  into  the  street,  except 
at  night,  and  to  visit  the  dwelling  of  the  Father 
General,  no  further  excitement  occurred  in  the  pub« 
lie  mind.  The  Oatholios,  who,  under  other  circum- 
stances, would  have  raised  an  ungovernable  storm 
about  the  poor  nun's  ears,  being  controlled  and  kept 
quiet  by  their  superiors. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

The  Father  General's  residence— The  library— Splendid  fnr- 
nitureand  fittings  of  the  establishment— The  Father 
General's  letter  to  the  Mother  Superior— Plot  upon  plot. 

Teb  residence  of  the  Father  General,  in  New  York, 
was  a  handsome  three-story  brick  building,  of  the 
first  class  of  private  houses,  having  a  basement  with 
dining  room  and  kitchen  attached ;  a  suite  of  draw- 
ing rooms,  richly  furnished,  on  the  first  floor  proper ; 
two  large  ohambers  on  the  second,  and  as  many  in 
the  third,  with  a  neat  little  room,  over  the  hall,  on 
both;  and  a  fine  attic,  well  finished,  for  the  servants 
of  the  establishment.  In  the  rear  was  a  small  yard, 
which  his  taste  had  caused  to  be  handsomely  ar» 


iM 


-i^ 


'^I^BI 

I 

m 

>-M 

m 

iwm 

IK 

1 

108 


mrSTEBISS  OF  A  CONTBNT. 


ranged  in  little  flower-bedi,  in  which  were  some 
most  rare  and  beantifal  plants,  carefully  attended  to 
by  the  gardener  from  the  city  convent,  who  came  at 
regular  intervals  to  spend  a  day  or  two  in  working 
the  beds,  and  seeing  that  everything  was  in  nice  or* 
der.  Between  this  residence  and  the  adjoining 
house,  was  an  alley  of  some  three  feet  and  a  half  in 
width,  with  a  front  gate  opening  upon  the  street; 
the  alley  running  back  into  the  garden.  The  front 
chamber  of  this  dwelling,  in  the  second  story,  was 
occupied  by  the  Father  General ;  the  rear  one  ap- 
propriated to  his  guests,  and  the  small  room  over 
the  door,  as  a  cabinet  where  he  kept  his  most  valu- 
able papers  in  an  ron  safe,  did  all  of  his  writing, 
and  transacted  his  private  business.  The  only  open- 
ing to  this  room  was  through  his  chamber ;  as  he 
had  the  door  formerly  leading  from  it  into  the  pas- 
sage, built  up,  80  as  to  render  himself  the  more  se- 
cure from  eaves-dropping. 

The  front  room  in  the  third  story  was  fitted  up 
as  a  library ;  having  shelves  arranged  on  all  sides, 
upon  which  was  found  a  magnificent  collection  of 
books,  in  all  languages,  and  upon  almost  all  sub- 
jects ;  many  of  them  ver^  rare  and  of  great  value.  A 
map-rack  stood  on  one  side  of  the  room,  provided 
with  maps  and  atlases,  some  of  which  were  especi- 
ally prepared  with  a  view  to  exhibit,  at  a  glance,  the 
pomts  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  where  the  Jesuits 
had  established  themselves.  A  very  large  terres- 
trial globe,  also,  stood  near  these  maps.  An  oval 
table,  covered  with  green  cloth,  and  of  large  dimen- 
sions, occupied  the  centre  of  this  room,  upon  which 
were  bundles  of  letters  and  papers  tied  up  with  red 
tape,  and  neatly  labelled  by  the  secretary  of  the  Fa- 
ther General,  a  young  Italian  by  the  name  of  Fietro 
Lodetti,  who  spent  most  of  his  time  in  the  library, 
daring  the  day,  and  occupied  the  adjoining  bed- 
room, at  night.  It  may  be  m  well  to  state,  here, 
that  this  secretary  had  been  sent  oat  from  Italyi  by 


aCTSTBBZBS  OF  ▲  OOlHrBNT* 


109 


)  some 
ided  to 
lame  at 
rorking 
lice  or* 
joining 
half  in 
street; 
e  front 
ry,  was 
ne  ap« 
n  oyer 
it  valu- 
writing, 
f  open- 
;  as  he 
he  pas- 
lore  Be- 
tted up 
L  sides, 
tion  of 
11  sub- 
due. A 
:oyided 
especi- 
ice,  the 
Jesuits 
terres- 
In  oval 
dimen* 
,  which 
ith  red 
the  Fa- 
Pietro 
ibrary, 
g  bed- 
,here, 


the  head  of  the  order  there,  of  hit  own  aooord,  to  the 
Father  General  in  the  Uoited  States,  with  the  real» 
though  not  avowed,  intention  of  acting  as  a  spy 
upon  the  actions  of  the  latter;  such  being  the  suspi- 
cious jealousy  of  these  Jesuits,  in  reference  to  each 
other. 

It  was  altogether  a  rare  establishment  In  its  en- 
tire fitting  np ;  and,  save  that  it  had  throughout  that 
masculine  tone  which  seems  to  be  inseparably  con- 
nected with  all  bachelor  residences,  from  which  the 
mellowing  hand  of  woman  and  her  delicate  taste 
have  been  excluded,  it  might  have  been  a  model  for 
the  whole  city,  in  point  oif  neatness  and  elegance. 
In  the  drawing  rooms  were  hung  some  of  the  best 
specimens  of  the  old  masters ;  in  the  chambers  were 
found  all  possible  luxurious  contrivances  for  ease 
and  comfort ;  iu  the  cuisine,  every  arrangement  ne- 
cessary for  the  perfection  of  good  living ;  and  in  the 
cellar,  carefully  placed  under  lock  and  key,  a  choice 
store  of  the  richest  old  wines,  duly  labelled  with  the 
dates  of  the  respective  vintages,  upon  his  profound 
acquaintance  with  which,  the  Father  General  great- 
ly prided  himself.  It  is  tone  that  all  this  contrasted 
strangely  enough  with  the  Jesuit's  vow  of  poverty; 
but,  S  you  had  asked  him  to  explain  the  glaring  in- 
consistency, he  would,  doubtless,  have  repfied  to  yoo, 
with  great  readiness,  that,  as  the  head  of  the  order 
in  tiie  United  States,  he  had  dispensation  to  live 
thus ;  the  importance  and  dignity  of  the  office  which 
he  filled,  requiring  that  he  should  live  in  correspond- 
ing state. 

On  the  evening  of  the  day  upon  which  the  nun  re- 
presenting Emilie  de  Vere  or  uie  Sister  Theresa,  had 
been  taken  before  the  city  authorities,  the  Father 
General  was  seated  at  the  round  table  covered  with 
green  cloth,  which  stood  in  his  cabinet,  busilv  en- 
gaged in  writing  a  letter,  in  cyplier,  to  the  Mother 
Superior;  a  quiet  smile,  meanwhile,  playing  upon 
his  features. 


:i:'H 


no 


ICTSTBBXBS  QF  A  OOITVSNT. 


After  giving  h§r  a  detailed  acoount  of  tha  ayentB 
of  tha  day,  he  thus  proceeded : 

*<Thu8,  you  will  peroeive,  our  plot  works  admir- 
ably. The  Canada  nun,  about  whom  I  have  already 
written  to  you,  has  played  her  part  to  profection; 
and  I  have  succeeded,  by  her  help,  and  by  the  man- 
ner iu  which  I  have  mana^^^ed  this  whole  affair,  in 
making  the  mayor  and  the  good  citizens  of  New 
York  believe  the  nun  to  be  the  veritable  one  whom 
I  advertised,  last  July,  and  that  we  Catholics  are 
the  most  barbarous  people  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 
But,  while  they  are  under  this  impression,^  we  are 
steadily  advancing  towards  the  desired  object^  and 
can  afford  to  be  covered  with  the  dust  which  is 
thrown  up  by  our  carriag^e  wheels,  whose  revolu« 
tions  bear  us  to  the  acquisition  of  a  vast  inheritance. 
It  is  of  the  utmost  importance  to  us,  that  every  pos« 
sible  suspicion  of  connivance  in  this  matter  should 
be  avoided ;  and  the  worse,  therefore,  the  attitude  in 
which  we  appear  to  stand  to  the  pretended  Sister 
Theresa,  the  more  improbable  it  is  that  collusion 
should  be  suspected  or  detected. 

'^  I  have  written  to  Father  Marin,  to  make  every 
possible  effort  to  introduce  into  the  family  of  Mr. 
Moreton,  a  servant  under  the  control  of  our  order, 
that  we  may  have  a  spy  upon  Julia,  and  be  able  to 
countervail  any  mischief  that  she  or  her  friends  may 
attempt  to  do. 

^'  On  to-morrow,  the  nun  will  write  a  letter  as  from 
Emilie  de  Vere  to  her  father,  requesting  him  to  come 
and  take  her  home,  which  I  shall  take  care  to  send 
to  the  executor  of  the  estate,  in  such  a  way  as  will 
avoid  all  suspicion,  and  put  the  affair  a  step  further 
forward  in  the  process  of  completion.  Meanwhile, 
she  is  safely  housed  with  Mr.  Wilmot,  whom  all  the 
world  believes  to  be  a  good  Episcopalian,  while  he 
is  one  of  us,  and  as  true  as  steel.    Ha  1  ha ! 

**  I  will  keep  you  advised  of  further  proceedin|[S." 

To  this  letter  he  added  the  following  postscript, 
in  the  same  cypher : 


HTSTBBIBS  OF  A  00M7BNT. 


Ill 


'*  If  yon  have  any  clothing  of  Emilie  da  Vere,  worn 
by  her  previous  to  her  asanming  the  religions  habit, 
or  any  articles  which  her  friends,  if  there  be  any, 
woald  be  likely  to  recognise  as  hers— box  them  np 
carefully,  and  send  them  to  my  address." 

Despatching  this  letter  to  the  post  office,  by  a  ser* 
vant  who  answered  the  signal  bell  wire  which  com- 
municated with  the  kitchen,  the  Father  General  ap- 
plied himself  to  the  examination  of  a  large  mass  of 
documents  which  he  took  from  the  iron  safe,  and  to 
the  perusal  and  answering  of  several  letters  which 
lay  upon  the  table  before  him  some  in  cypher,  aud 
some  in  a  plain  hand  ;  and,  as  the  great  town  clock, 
on  the  City  Hall,  told  the  hour  of  two  in  the  morn- 
ing, jaded  and  worn  out  with  fatigue,  he  entered  his 
bed-room,  and,  mumbling  a  sleepy  and  hasty  prayer, 
threw  himself  upon  his  luxurious  couch  of  down,  and 
slept  soundly  until  the  rap  of  the  servant  at  the  door, 
which  was  carefully  and  doubly  locked,  aroused  him 
to  a  late  breakfast. 


CHAPTER  XXn. 

The  Father  General's  anxiety — His  interview  and  transac- 
tion with  the  false  Emilie  de  Vere — ^The  fabricated  le^> 
ter— The  Ttalian  secretM*y — ^Plot  and  connter-plot-- 
Fietro  and  Alice— The  intimacy  commenced. 

Thb  next  evening,  about  nine  o'clock,  the  Father 
General  might  have  been  seen  seated  at  his  cabinet, 
at  the  little  green  table,  on  which  were  placed  writ- 
ing materials,  anxiously  awaiting  the  arrival  of  some 
one ;  for  he  frequently  arose,  and,  going  to  the  win- 
dow, looked  out  into  the  darkness,  aud  as  often  re- 
turned to  his  chair,  with  an  evidently  increasing  nn* 
easiness  of  manner. 

At  length,  he  was  about  to  seize  his  hat,  and  leave 
the  room,  when  he  heard  the  sound  of  approaching 
footsteps ;  the  gate  opening  into  the  alley  creaked 
upon  its  hinges,  and  he  hastened  down  stairs  to  me^ 
the  expected  visitor,  who  turned  out  to  be  the  pre- 


■iiij, 


f^q- 


.  I  i  I 


ii;.,i 


112 


MYSTEBISfl  OV  ▲  OOITVENT. 


tended  Sister  Theresa,  dressed  not  in  the  ^arb  of  a 
religieuset  but  that  of  a  woman  in  the  middle  walk 
of  life,  plain  but  neat.  She  was  accompanied  by  the 
secretary,  in  a  secular  ^ress,  who,  with  his  quiet, 
down  look,  glided  silently  by  her  side,  and,  crossing 
his  arms  upon  his  breast,  with  a  low  inclination  of 
the  head,  as  he  met  the  Father  Jesuit,  passed  on  to 
his  own  apartment ;  leaving  the  nun  whom  he  had 
been  sent  for,  standing  in  the  hall  with  the  latter. 

"  I  will  call  for  you  in  two  hours,"  said  the  Gen- 
eral to  the  secretary,  as  the  former  turned  to  ascend 
the  stairway  along  with  the  nun. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  was  the  reply  of  the  secretary,  again 
crossing  his  arms,  and  bowing  his  head. 

When  the  General  had  introduced  the  nun  into 
his  cabinet,  carefully  locking  the  door  of  the  bed- 
room, he  looked  sternly  at  her,  while  he  said,  in  an 
impressive  tone : 

'*  Tou  are  an  hour  behind  your  time.  Why  is  this  P" 

**  My  lord,"  replied  the  nun,  somewhat  alarmed 
by  his  earnest  manner,  "  I  was  detained  by  some 
company  that  came  to  Mr.  Wilmot's,  after  tea,  and 
whom  I  could  not  leave  without  appearing  to  be  ab- 
rupt, and  excite  suspicion." 

"  It  is  well.  You  have  acted  your  part  nobly  so 
far ;  continue  to  be  true  and  faithful,  and  you  will 
deserve  well  of  the  order.  Betray  my  trust,  and— 
you  know  what  will  be  the  consequence,"  said  the 
Father  General,  while  a  slight  tremor  passed  over 
the  poor  girl's  frame. 

*'Now,"  continued  the  Jesuit,  "  sit  down  at  that 
table,  and  write  as  I  shall  dictate  to  you." 

"  New  York  Citi/,  August  18, 1812. 
"To  Mr.  Charles  de  Vere, 

Bdton  Bouge,  Louisiana. 

"My  dear,  dear  father,  can  you,  will  you,  forgive 
me,  for  the  base  part  I  have  acted,  in  bringing  so 
much  sorrow  upon  you  and  upon  my  dear  mother, 
of  whose  death,  some  years  ago,  I  have  heard  F    Oh, 


"There, 

ting  the  ni 

have  writi 

"Ah!  t 

carefully  i 

Ma  f  oi,  bu 

pretty  fing 

he,  as  he  1 

a  blush  m 

"  Gome 

said  the  J 

he  had  mc 

lope—"  ai 

than  you 

sure  not  t 

my  pet." 

Leavinj 

while  he 

to  act  in 

upon  the 


MTSTEBIE8  OF  ▲  C0I7VBNT. 


113 


if  she  were  but  alive,  how  would  it  rejoice  my  heart 
to  fall  upon  my  knees  before  her,  and  implore  her 
forgiveness,  too!  but  she  is  ^one  ;  and  you  are  my 
only  remaining  parent.  Will  you  forgive  me,  dear 
father,  when  I  tell  you  that  I  have  repented  in  dust 
and  ashes— that  I  have  fled  from  the  hated  convent, 
and  renounced  Boman  Catholicism  for  ever?  O, 
come  to  me,  beloved  father !  and  tell  me  that  you  do 
forgive  me ;  and  take  me  away  from  this  region, 
where  I  fear,  every  day,  that  the  dreadful  priests 
will  find  me  out,  and  use  violence  to  my  life.  Tou 
will  find  me  at  the  house  of  a  Mr.  William  Wilmot, 
a  grocer,  at  the  corner  of  Hudson  and  King- street. 
Mr.  Wilmot  is  a  Protestant,  who  has  kindly  taken 
me  into  his  family,  and  so  far  protected  me  against 
the  efforts  of  the  vile  Jesuits.  But  hasten  to  me,  dear 
father— every  day  will  seem  an  age  until  I  see  you. 

**  Your  repentant  child, 

"  Emilib  de  Vebb." 
<' There,  that's  a  good  girl,"  said  the  General,  pat- 
ting the  nun  on  the  head.    '*  Let  me  see  what  you 
have  written." 

'^  Ah !  that  is  just  right,"  he  added,  after  having 
carefully  perused  the  letter—'*  just  what  we  want. 
Ma  foi,  but  you  write  a  pretty  hand,  just  like  those 
pretty  fingers  with  which  you  wrote  it,"  continued 
he,  as  he  looked  archly  at  the  pretty  woman,  while 
a  hlush  mantled  her  cheeks.'' 

"  Gome  now,  my  dear,  direct  this  on  the  back," 
said  the  Jesuit,  as  he  handed  her  the  letter,  which 
he  had  meanwhile  folded  and  enclosed  in  an  enve- 
lope—** and  write  the  address  in  a  little  larger  hand 
than  you  have  used  within,  in  order  that  it  may  be 
sure  not  to  miscarry.  Tes,  that  will  do ;  thank  you, 
my  pet." 

Leaving  the  pretty  nun  with  the  Father  Jesuit, 
while  he  instructs  her  fully  in  that  part  which  she  is 
to  act  in  the  plot,  let  us  go  up  stairs,  and  look  ta 
upon  the  secretary.    See,  there  he  sits,  in  that  room 


'      VI 


-f' 


ih 


:t^ii,  P-  '■  . 


ll 


114 


KTSTBBIES  07  A  CONVENT. 


tin 


filled  with  books,  surrouaded  by  a  pile  of  papers, 
whioh  he  seems  to  have  been  engaged  in  arrangiug 
and  filing.  But  he  no  longer  has  that  quiet,  down 
look ;  his  feet  are  placed  upon  the  edge  of  the  table: 
as  he  leans  back  in  his  chair,  he  twirls  his  pen  be- 
tween his  fingers,  and  his  piercing  black  eye  is  danc- 
ing in  its  socket,  as^  with  a  look  full  of  intelligence, 
he  seems  to  be  solvrng  some  mental  question  which 
deeply  interests  him.  Presently,  as  if  unable  to  ar- 
rive  at  any  satisfactory  conclusion,  he  threw  the  peu 
upon  the  table,  with  a  gesture  of  impatience,  ex- 
claiming— 

**  I  will  find  it  out,  in  spite  of  him.  It  is  no  mere 
loye  intrigue,  I  am  sure.  If  so,  why  should  this  nun 
have  come  all  the  way  from  Cauada,  as  she  told  me, 
to-night,  she  had  ;  and  why  all  this  pretence  about 
her  escape  from  the  Convent  of  the  Annunciatiou, 
and  about  her  being  a  sister  somebody  instead  of 
herself?  why  this  personation  of  another  nun,  and 
all  this  uproar  at  the  mayor's  office  f  Why  is  she 
staying  at  Wilmot's  ?  There  is  some  graud  plot  on 
hand;  and  I  will  have  a  hand  in  it— I  vow  to  the 
Holy  Virgin,  I  will." 

**  But  how  shall  I  go  about  it  ?  Ah !  I  see.  I  will 
make  love  to  this  nun— and  then,  Mr.  Father  Gen- 
eral— my  Lord,  the  representative  of  the  Great  Head 
of  the  Jesuits  in  these  United  States — then  see  if  I 
do  not  get  from  her  all  she  knows  about  this  matter : 
and  she  must  necessarily  know  a  good  deal.  Aha! 
Pietro,  you  have  got  him  now." 

So  saying,  the  young  priest  seemed  to  be  greatly 
elated ;  but,  just  in  tiie  height  of  it,  and  while  he 
was  still  planning  and  plotting,  in  his  own  mind, 
how  he  should  carry  out  his  newly-formed  scheme, 
a  signal,  which  apprised  him  that  the  Father  Gen- 
eral required  his  presence  to  attend  the  nun  to  bet 
home,  iuterrupted  his  reverie.,  a.]ud  called  him  down 
stairs.  Here  he  found  the  latter  awaitiug  him,  with 
averted  countenance,  outside  the  ohamuer  door  of 


MT8IBBZES  OF  ▲  COWmtT. 


115 


the  General ;  and  the  two,  deeoending  to  the  yard. 
Boon  found  their  way  to  the  street,  and  rapidly 
walked  towards  the  part  of  the  dty  in  which  Mr. 
Wilmot  lived. 

Daring  the  fifteen  minutes  which  elapsed  before 
reaching  the  residence  of  the  nun,  the  secretary  had 
made  such  good  use  of  his  time,  that  she  had  pro- 
mised to  take  a  walk  ^  ith  him,  for  the  benefit  of  her 
I  health,  on  the  following  night ;  it  being  agreed  up- 
on, between  them,  that,  at  dark,  she  should  retire  to 
I  her  ro'om,  on  pretence  of  a  headache,  while  he  would 
walk  slowly  before  the  house,  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  way ;  and,  when  she  discovered  him,  she 
I  was  to  steal  quietly  out  into  the  street,  and  join  him. 

The  truth  is,  that  the  nun  found  it  a  very  tire- 
I  some  affair  to  be  cooped  up  in  a  small  house,  day 
alter  day,  with  nothing  to  do ;  while  the  busy  scenes 
in  the  street  upon  which  she  looked,  day  after  day, 
excited  her  woman's  curiosity  to  know  more  of  what 
was  going  on  in  the  world  around  her  ;  and,  as  she 
did  not  dare  to  go  out  alone,  by  day  or  by  night,  she 
looked  upon  the  offer  of  the  handsome  young  Italian 
as  affording  her  just  what  she  wanted,  an  opportuni- 
ty for  rambling  about  unobserved,  and  of  taking  a 
peep  at  men  and  things  as  they  existed  outside  of 
I  the  walls  of  a  convent. 

They  did  ramble  about,  for  two  good  hours,  that 
night  of  their  appointment ;  and,  while  the  secretary 
I  continued  to  amuse  her  childish  curiosity,  by  means 
of  many  strange  sights  and  sounds  which  attracted 
her  observation  and  fell  upon  her  ear,  he  managed 
most  adroitly,  and  all  unconsciously  to  her,  to  draw 
from  her,  indirectly,  a  number  of  items  which  gave 
him,  unitedly,  some  clue  to  the  grand  plot  whose 
existence  he  suspected,  and  of  whose  nature  he  felt 
anxious  to  have  some  knowledge. 

These  nocturnal  ramblings  were  kept  up  for  a 
ooQsiderable  length  of  time ;  but,  as  they  did  not  oe- 
cnr  oftener  than  onee,  or  at  most,  twice  a  week,  and 


m 


'i 


f>K.,'    I 


116 


3CTSTSBZES  OF  ▲  OONYBZIT. 


g:eat  oare  was  taken  that  they  should  not  be  ex< 
ndedtosuch  an  hour  in  the  night  as  would  bf 
likely  to  place  the  nun  in  the  position  of  being  looki 


CHAPTER  XXin. 

Alice's  parents— Placed  in  a  convent  at  an  early  age— New  | 
feelings  produced  by  (new  scenes — Evening  rambles- 
Mutual  attachment— The  dawning  of  light — Its  effect  up*  I 
on  Pietro  and  Alice— Their  conversation  and  resolution, 

The  nun,  whom  the  Father  General  had  found  in  i 
convent  in  Canada,  and  brought  to  New  York,  to 
personate  the  deceased  Sister  Theresa,  was  the 
daughter  of  Colonel  Soule,  a  French  officer  of  dis* 
tinction,  who  had  been  killed  in  a  duel,  near  Mon- 
treal ;  and  whose  widow  had  placed  the  young 
Alice,  then  only  five  years  old,  in  the  care  of  the  Ab- 
bess, while  she  returned  to  France,  to  see  after  her 
husband's  property.  The  French  Bevolution  had,  in 
the  meantime,  broken  out,  and  Madame  Soule  died, 
a  prey  to  anxiety  and  grief.  The  orphaned  Alice 
had,  therefore,  grown  up  in  the  convent,  without 
having  ever  been  outside  of  its  walls  from  the  day 
upon  which  she  entered  them,  until  that  when,  iii 
company  with  the  Father  General,  she  had  started 
for  the  city :— she  having  previously  passed  her  no- 
vitiate, and  been  a  nun  for  some  two  years. 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  therefore,  that,  when 
this  young  creature,  iuheritiug  all  the  vivacity  of  the 
French  character,  and  trained  amid  the  gloom  and 
monotony  of  conventual  scenes,  was  placed,  wholly 
inexperienced,  in  the  midst  of  a  large  and  crowdea 
city,  like  New  Tork,  full  of  novel  sights,  which  ex- 
cited her  curiosity  and  called  into  active  exercise  her 
ardent  imagination,  with  what  she  saw  and  heard 


MT8TEBIBS  07  A  OONVBITF. 


117 


around  her  contrasted  so  strangely  with  the  austere 
aspect  of  things  as  they  existed  in  the  prison-house 
in  which  she  had  been  reared,  she  should  be  f  ascinat- 
^  with  the  new  world  into  which  she  had  been  so 
j^uddenly  ushered,  and  should  look  forward,  with 
dread,  to  the  period  of  her  return  to  that  liying  tomb. 
Especially  is  not  this  to  be  wondered  at,  when  it  is 
remembered  that  her  Cicerone  was  a  young  and 
handsome  Italian,  of  noble  family ;  whose  accom- 
plished manners  and  whose  brilliant  talents  had,  at 
first,  been  employed  to  win  from  her  all  she  knew  in 
reference  to  the  plot  of  the  General ;  but  which  had 
accomplished  results,  to  both,  but  little  dreamed  of 
by  either;  for  he  had  awakened  feelings  in  her 
mind,  to  which  she  had  hitherto  been  a  stranger ; 
while,  in  his  turn,  he  felt  that  the  flame  which  he 
had  kindled  in  her  bosom,  burned  also  in  his  own. 

Indeed,  the  circumstances  of  these  two  young 
persons  were  somewhat  similar ;  for  he  had  been 
placed,  for  family  reasons,  at  a  very  tender  age,  in 

monastery  at  Bome  ;  and  had  been  educated 
wholly  within  its  walls,  in  all  the  artifice  and  trick- 
ery of  the  Jesuits,  until,  discovering  peculiar  talent 
for  intrigue,  he  had,  at  the  age  of  twenty  three 
years,  been  selected  by  the  head  of  the  order  there, 
and  sent  to  this  country,  in  company  with  the  Le- 
gate on  his  visit  of  installation,  as  private  secretary 
to  the  Father  General ;  for  the  double  purpose  of 
acting  as  a  spy  upon  the  movements  of  the  latter, 
and  of  obliging  the  rich  and  powerful  family  of  the 
Lodetti,  who  had  their  own  reasons  for  desiring  that 
Pietro  should  be  removed  as  far  from  them  as  pos- 
sible. Since  his  arrival  in  the  United  States,  he  had, 
as  a  quick  observer  and  an  intelligent  reasouer,  ac- 
quired new  views  of  men  and  thins^s.  Life  pre- 
sented itself,  to  his  mind,  in  an  entirely  novel  as- 
pect; and  he  began  secretly  to  form  conclusions, 
even  to  project  plans,  which  startled  himself,  accus- 
tomed as  he  had  been  previously  to  a  blind  submis* 


li'i, ■.   Ki' 


":l 


118 


HTSTBBXES  OF  ▲  OOITVENT. 


rion  to  the  will  of  his  Superiors,  and  to  have  bii 
thoughts  take  their  complexion  from  the  colourini 
of  those  who  had  assumed  to  think  for  him.  Yet  thi 
very  novelty  and  darinpf  of  these  new  conceptiom 
had  a  peculiar  charm  for  his  excitahle  and  naturally 
enterprising  disposition,  and  were,  therefore,  readilj 
indulged  hy  him. 

If,  then,  Alice  felt  like  a  bird  let  loose,  for  the  first 
time  from  a  cage  in  which  it  had  been  raised,  and  I 
disposed  to  soar  aloft  into  the  blue  ether,  upon  thoM  | 
pinions  which  hitherto  had  beaten  in  vain  againit 
its  prison  bars ;  his  feelings  resembled  those  of  one  | 
who,  shut  up  from  infancy  in  the  dark  cavern,  by 
and  by  emerges  upon  green  fields,  lit  up  by  the  glad* 
some  sunshine ;  and,  after  standing  for  a  time,  ga& 
ing  in  mute  amazement  upon  the  freshly  developed 
beauties  of  nature,  at  length  longs  to  roam  over 
those  fields,  and  become  better  acquainted  with 
those  beauties. 

Their  rambles  through  the  city,  by  night,  had  sen* 
ed  to  attach  these  two  beings  to  each  other,  in  strong 
and  mystic  ties: — the  stronger  because  they  had  be< 
come  mutually  acqiiainted  with  each  other's  history; 
and  their  souls  so  mingled  in  sympathy  and  affec- 
tion, that  their  confidence  was  perfect — no  thonght 
which  sprang  up  in  the  mind  of  the  one,  beiug  held 
back  from  the  other. 

During  one  of  these  excursions,  they  happened  to 
pass  near  a  Protestant  church,  in  which  the  regular 
night  service  was  conducted.  Prompted  by  curi« 
osity,  they  entered,  and  took  their  seats  in  the  first 
pew  they  came  to.  Here,  unobserved  themselves, 
because  seated  in  the  rear  of  the  entire  congrega- 
tion, they  looked  with  deep  interest,  for  the  first 
time  in  their  lives,  upon  the  simple  form  of  religions 
service — so  plain,  so  fervant,  so  rational ;— and 
could  not  help  contrasting  it  with  the  complex  and 
pompous  ceremonial  of  their  own  ohuroh;  and) 
when  the  miniiter  arose,  and  in  earnest  tones  gavi 


aiTSTEBIBS  OV  ▲  CON\  ^NT. 


119 


out  his  text — **  Ye  shall  know  the  .truth ;  and  the 
truth  shall  make  you  free;"— -they  listened  with  ra^,  \ 
attention  to  his  delineation  of  true  spiritual  freedo«i, 
the  means  hy  which  it  is  attained,  and  the  result  A 
this  freedom,  to  the  individual,  the  nation,  the  world 
at  large.  As  they  listened,  new  "views  of  human 
rights,  of  human  happiness,  of  divine  truth,  all  con- 
sonant as  they  were  with  right  reason,  sprang  up  in 
their  minds,  and  placed  themselves  in  striking  op« 
position  to  the  dogmas  in  which  they  had  heen  in« 
structed,  and  the  slavery,  mental,  moral,  and  physi* 
oal,  in  which  they  had  been  hitherto  held.  They 
felt  as  did  the  monk  of  Eisleben,  when  he  found  the 
long  neglected  Latin  copy  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  in 
the  Hbrary  of  his  convent ;  and,  while  reading  it, 
r  his  soul  kindled  with  new  energy,  as  he  saw  how 
truth  had  been  wronged  by  ignorant  piety  and  hypo- 
critical infidelity."  And  as  contact  with  the  opinions 
lof  freemen,  who  regarded  liberty  as  their  birthright, 
Ihad  induced  opinions  and  feelings  in  the  minds  of 
those  who,  under  the  leading  of  La  Fayette  and  his 
gallant  associates,  had  crossed  the  broad  Atlantic  to 
aid  the  colonies  in  America  in  achieving  their  liber- 
ties,~which  had  led  to  the  attempt— unsuccessful 
though  it  was— to  accomplish  the  same  result  in 
France,  on  their  return  home, — so,  in  reference  to 
the  young  secretary  and  Alice,  they  felt  that  their 
birthright  had  been  withheld  from  them  and,  that 
God  and  man  would  justify  the  effort  to  secure  its 
I  restoration. 

The  service  concluded,  the  secretary  and  his  com- 
Ipanion  left  the  church,  and  directed  their  steps  to« 
wards  Mr.  Wilmot's ;— walking  slowly,  for  their 
minds  were  busy  with  the  solution  of  problems  which 
had  been  presented  to  them,  for  the  first  time,  that 
Bight.  ^  At  length,  the  former  said  to  Alice,  in  tones 
which  indicated  deep  thought,  as  well  as  honest  oon- 
'  tictioii : 

^'AlicOiwe  have  been  asleep.     Immured  within 


120 


inrSTBBZES  OV  ▲  CONYBNT. 


m 

'il-  1 


11"  *'■ 
,!r,;i 
:|i'  -■:< 


oonyentual  walls,  we  liad  no  knowledge  of  the  ezii. 
tence  of  any  other  world  than  that  we  found  aroimd 
us.  Instructed  in  the  dogmas  of  the  Catholic  Church, 
we  have  been  taught  to  belieye  that  all  besides  ia 
heresy,— damnable  doctrine,  unworthy  of  our  belief, 
and  insulting  to  Heayen,  as  well  as  destructive  of 
the  soul.  But  we  haye  awaked  to  find  that  there  is 
a  populous  world  outside  of  the  microcosm  in  which 
we  haye  been  reared ;— a  populous  world,  whose  in« 
habitants  enjoy  life,  and  liberty,  under  the  benign 
influence  of  a  religion  which  is  simple  in  its  forms, 
but  which  appears  mighty  in  its  effects ;  a  religion 
embraced  by  millions,  and  which  is  at  once  dignifying 
to  man,  since  it  frees  him  from  tyranny ;  and  hon- 
ourable to  God,  since  it  represents  him  not  as  en- 
slaying  the  mind  and  heart  of  man,  but  as  the  great 
deliyerer  from  thraldom.  I  feel  that  I  haye  awaked 
to  a  new  existence ;  methinks  I  breathe  a  purer  at- 
mosphere than  I  did  in  Bome.  I  am  a  freeman !  How 
is  it  with  thee,  dearest  Alice  P" 

"  Pietro,  I  feel  strange ;"— replied  Alice,  while  her 
voice  trembled  with  emotion.  "  I  do  not  know  what 
to  think,  nor  what  to  say.  I  am  bewildered,  *  Ye 
shall  know  the  truth ;  and  the  truth  shall  make  you 
free.'    Pietro,  what  is  truth  P" 

"Truth,  in  the  abstract,  Alice,  is  accordance  with 
fact  and  reality.  Moral  truth  must  be  in  conformity 
with  the  character  and  will  of  Him  who  is  the  great 
Moral  Goyernor  of  the  world :— the  great  moral 
principles  laid  down  by  Him  for  man's  goyerDment, 
finding  their  deyelbpement  in  the  administration  of 
diyine  grace  and  proyidence,  ultimating  in  the  re- 
tributions of  Eternity,  and  justified  by  the  results, 
in  the  sight  of  men,  of  angels,  and  of  deyils.  Yoa 
and  I,  Alice,  haye  been  taught  to  belieye  that  the 
truth  is  alone  to  be  found  within  the  pale  of  Holy 
Mother  Church :  but,  if  so,  how  is  this  assertion  to  be 
reconciled  with  the  corrupt  and  tyrannical  practices 
of  the  church ;  where  is  the  accordance  between  the 


1ET8TBBIB8  07  A  OONVBMT. 


121 


rorealed  oharaoter  of  Jehovah,  and  the  grand  dis- 
tinotiye  feature!  of  Oatholioism,  and  what,  I  hegin 
to  fear,  are  its  direct  and  necessary  tenddPoieiP 
Where  is  the  accordant  truth— this  freedom  of  which 
we  have  heard,  to-night  for  the  first  time  in  all  oar 
Ures  ?  We  have  hitherto  seen  neither.  On  the  con- 
trarv,  we  have  heen  taught  that  the  very  essence  of 
our  religion  consisted  in  submission  to  the  will  of 
our  suporiors,  and  in  our  religious  vows  of  poverty, 
chastity,  and  obedience; — which  sooth  to  say,  seem 
I  to  be  solemn  mockeries  in  the  estimation  of  those  to 
I  whom  we  made  them :  if,  indeed,  we  are  to  consider 
i  their  lives  as  commentaries  upon  their  principles — 
we  have  beenled  to  surrender  ourselves,  body,  soul, 
and  spirit,  to  their  control.  I  very  much  fear  that  the 
dogmas  of  our  church  are  incapable  of  bearing  the 
test  of  truth ;  and  I  lon^  to  share  that  liberty  which 
seems  to  be  the  birthright  of  man,  and  to  bf^  so 
largely  enjoyed  by  the  people  in  whose  midst  our 
lot  has  been  so  strangely  cast.  I  fear  that  I  am  fast 
jheooming  an  h«jrt>ti3 ;  but  I  cannot  help  it." 

**  It  is  strange,  Pietro,  that  I  have  much  the  same 
Ithoughts  and  feelings :  and  it  is  passing  strange,  as 
you  say,  how  we  have  been  thrown  into  this  new 
world  of  thought  and  feeling,  of  freedom  and  hap- 
piness. You  must  instruct  me,  Pietro  ;  I  know  not 
now  to  bring  my  little  bark  to  shore,  from  themidst 
of  the  billows  which  arise  tumultuously  around  me." 

**  I  will,  Alice,  with  all  m}r  heart,' ' — replied  Pietro. 
r  But,"— continued  he,  taking  her  hand  in  his,  and 
dressing  it  tenderly,  while  he  spoke  in  soft,  yet  dis- 
Itinct  tones,  which  thrilled  through  her  woman's 
Iheart,  pulsating  as  it  did  in  every  throb  for  him,  and 
Ifor  him  alone  :  ^'  promise  me,  Alice,  that,  in  good  or 
lill,  in  weal  or  woe,  whatever  may  be  our  future  lot, 
our  lives  and  our  fate  shall  be  one  and  inseparable, 
—that  we  shall  never  be  separated." 

**  Never  l"— said  Alice,  clinging  to  his  arm,  and 
[looking  up  into  his  face,  with  a  countenance  which 

224  1 


'm' 


l;:;i 


122 


MTSTEBIES  OF  A  CONVENT. 


'(.tj 


f)  t 


ti  ^i/J 


f'ri^ 


h  •!' 
r'  'Hi 


was  suffused  with  the  blush  of  maiden  modesty,  but 
which  spoke  the  deep  trust  of  her  soul,  and  the  fiim. 
ness  of  her  decision. 

**  Heaven  bless  thee,  dearest  Alice,  for  that  word. 
Now  will  I  protect  thee  with  my  life,  and  lead  you, 
as  best  I  may,  to  the  enjoyment  of  that  liberty  for 
which  we  both  pant.  The  vows  that  we  made,  were 
made  in  ignorance ;  they  must  be  displeasing  to  God, 
because  evidently  repugnant  to  the  truth  of  things. 
He  will  absolve  us ;  and  His  truth  will  make  us  free 
from  the  tyranny  of  man.  All  will  be  right,  Alice. 
Trust,  and  be  prudent.  Let  us  bide  our  time.  We 
shall  yet  be  free  !" 

He  had  become  so  much  excited,  while  uttering 
the  last  few  words,  that  his  voice  was  raised  to  a 
pitch  which  would  have  endangered  their  safety, 
had  any  prying  one  been  nigh ;  but  fortunately  none 
observed  the  interesting  pair,  or  heard  the  words  of 
treason  against  the  interests  of  Bome,  save  the  loved 
one  to  whom  they  were  addressed,  and  the  Great  Be- 
ing who  had  witnessed  the  plighting  of  their  troth, 
and  who  doubtless  approved  the  act,  notwithstand- 
ing the  vows  which  they  had  made  to  the  Holy  Mo- 
ther Church,  in  ignorance  and  in  superstition. 

They  soon  reached  Mr.  Wilmot's  door ;  and,  as 
they  stood  a  moment,  before  parting  for  the  night, 
Pietro  said  to  Alice : 

**  It  seems  to  me  that  we  both  need  a  ^uide  in  onr 
new  situation,  as  regards  both  our  position  to  the 
church,  and  our  inquiry  after  truth ;  and,  as  I  have 
no  longer  any  confidence  in  our  old  ones,  which  serve 
bat  to  bewilder  and  mislead  us,  I  shall,  on  to-mor- 
row, procure  a  copy  of  the  Protestant  Bible,  and 
read  it  for  m^rself .  I  shall  also  get  a  copy  for  you, 
Alice,  and  bring  it  with  me,  when  next  I  come. 
Meanwhile,  we  will  come  to  visit  that  Frotestant 
church,  every  Thursday  night,  where  we  heard  such 
ihinffs,  this  evening.  Farewell,  dearest— be  prode&li 
and  look  to  the  Qreat  Source  of  Light,  Life,  and  U^ 
berty,  for  help  and  for  guidance.    Good  night." 


So  say 
room,  an 
to  Mary- 
is '^t^tt? 
out  her  s 
lead  then 
vation,  a 
cumstanc 


Alice's  ign 
gaged 
ation  t 
turbat 
with  2^ 
Frentii 
minati 

Thbee  m 
ten  the  le 
Vere,  whi 
the  Fathe 
thing  of  ] 
thing  aboi 
was  almoi 
Boman  C 
faith,  whc 
her  in  an 
had  like  t 
yet  it  had 
Alice,  0 
told  that, 
the  order, 
then  be  m 
Emilie  de 
age,  heigh 
Charles  d< 
city,  but, 
Boage,in 
mother  ha 


InrSTEHIES  OF  A  CONVENT, 


123 


So  saying,  he  turned  away,  while  Alice  sought  her 
room,  and,  kneeling  down,  not  in  prayer,  as  usuiU, 
to  Mary—"  the  refuge  of  BinnerB"—but  to  JJm,  who 
is **ihewa^, and  the  truths  and  the  life"  she  poured 
out  her  soul  in  devout  supplication  that  He  would 
lead  them  into  an  acquaintance  with  the  way  of  sal- 
vation, and  guide  them  in  their  present  difficult  cir- 
cumstances. 


CHAPTEB  XXrV. 

Alice's  ignorance  of  the  true  nature  of  the  plot  she  was  en 
gaged  in — Her  anxiety  on  that  account— Her  determm- 
ation  to  act  right— Arrival  of  Mr.  Prentiss— Alice's  i^op- 
turhation  and  alarm  in  consequence— Her  interview 
with  Mr«  Prentiss— Alice  divulges  the  particulars  to  Mr. 
Prentiss — His  astonishment  at  the  recital — His  deter- 
mination to  befriend  Alice— Escape  of  Pietro  and  Alice. 

Thbee  months  had  now  passed  since  Alice  had  writ- 
ten the  letter  to  the  south,  in  the  name  of  Emilie  de 
Yere,  which  had  been  dictated  to  her  iu  the  name  of 
the  Father  General.  Mr.  Wilmot,  if  he  knew  any- 
thing of  her  intimacy  with  the  secretary,  said  no- 
thing about  it ;  and  the  latter,  together  with  Alice, 
was  almost  ready  to  make  a  public  recantation  of 
Boman  Catholicism,  and  to  profess  the  Protestant 
faith,  when  a  circumstance  occurred,  which  placed 
her  in  an  exceedingly  embarrassing  situation,  and 
had  like  to  have  ruined  the  plot  of  the  Jesuit,  ere 
yet  it  had  matured. 

Alice,  on  being  brought  to  New  York,  had  been 
told  that,  for  reasons  which  involved  the  interests  of 
the  order,  and  which  it  was  not  ueoessary  she  should 
then  be  made  acquainted  with,  she  was  to  personate 
Emilie  de  Yere,  a  youug  girl,  who  was  about  her  own 

S|[e,  height,  complexion,  &c ;  whose  father  was  a  lifo. 
harles  de  Yere,  formerly  a  resident  of  New  York 
city,  but,  for  some  years,  of  the  parish  of  B&ton 
Bouge,  in  Louisiana,  a  wealthy  planter ;  and  whose 
nether  had  been  dead  for  many  years.  She  was  for* 


124 


JlYSTEftlES  OV  A  CONTEOT. 


irj 


'fi 


'!, 


'     ^i  ! 


f:'    ]''  . 


ther  told  that  the  |)art  which  she  was  expected  to 
act,  from  time  to  time,  would  be  communicated  to 
her,  as  it  became  necessary,  and  that  she  was  on  no 
account  to  take  any  step,  or  to  answer  any  questions, 
beyond  what  was  stated  to  her,  without  leave  and 
instructions  from  the  Father  General.  The  part 
which  she  had  acted  before  the  mayor's  court,  had 
all  been  arranged  for  her  beforehand,  and  the  very 
language,  as  far  as  practicable,  dictated  to  her ;  as 
the  General  had  anticipated,  to  some  extent,  the 
course  which  things  would  take  under  his  direction, 
aided  by  his  accomplice,  Mr.  Wilmot. 

At  that  time,  she  never  dreamed,  :<:or  a  moment, 
that  she  had  a  will  of  her  own,  or  that  it  would  be 
anything  short  of  perdition  for  her  to  question  the 
right  of  her  superiors,  whenever  required  to  do  their 
bidding.  She  was  a  mere  automaton,  moved  as  they 
might  please.  But  now  that  new  light  had  broken 
into  her  soul,  and  that  she  had  acquired  new  views 
of  her  rights  and  duties  as  an  accountable  moral 
agent,  who  owed  an  allegiance  to  high  heaven,  para- 
mount to  any  that  she  was  under  to  any  earthly 
power,  she  felt  exceedingly  distressed  at  the  part  that 
she  had  acted  heretofore,  and  hardly  knew  what 
course  to  adopt  for  the  future.  She  had  consulted 
freely  with  Pietro  upon  the  subject ;  but  he  felt 
himself  wholly  incompetent  to  advise  her.  If  she 
went  forward  to  the  mayor,  and  confessed  to  him 
the  truth,  her  former  acting  in  the  part  which  she 
had  played  before  him,  would  cause  him  to  suspect 
her  sincerity  now,  and  might  place  her  in  circum* 
stances  of  danger  to  her  personal  liberty :  for  he 
would  probably  regard  her  as  insane ;  consider  the 
idea  of  insanity,  as  formerly  set  up,  and  disregarded 
through  the  testimony  of  the  examining  physicians, 
as  being  founded  in  lact ;  and  order  her  to  be  re- 
turned to  the  Father  General,  who  would  not  fail 
to  inflict  most  severe  punishment  upon  her,  while 
Pietro  would  be  in  no  situation  to  protect  her.  Onoe 


anrsTSBZBB  ov  ▲  oonvbxit. 


125 


in  tbe  power  of  the  General,  and  she  knew  her  se- 
paration from  Fietro  would  be  final  and  for  ever. 
She  could  not  consult  with  Mr.  Wilmot ;  for  he  was 
but  the  creature  of  the  General.  She  could  not  throw 
herself  upon  the  mercy  of  the  latter,  and  beg  him  to 
procure  the  services  of  some  one  else  iu  the  decep- 
tion in  which  she  was  made  to  bear  a  conspicuous 
part,  for  this  would  enrage  him,  and  separate  her 
from  Fietro ;  since  she  would  be  instantly  sent  back 
to  the  convent;  and  she  dreaded  the  fate  that  would 
await  her  there.  '*  Ferhaps,"  thought  she,  ignorant 
of  the  magnitude  of  the  plot  in  which  she  was  itu 
volved — **  perhaps,  after  all,  it  may  be  a  small  affair, 
and  that  I  may  have  but  little  more  to  do  with  it.  I 
must  bide  my  time,  and  act  as  circumstances  may  re- 
quire. I  will  not,  if  I  can  help  it,  act  dishonestly. 
God  help  me  to  do  right." 

That  prayer,  though  but  an  ejaculation,  was  made 
in  sincerity,  and  was  heard  in  heaven.  God  did 
help  her,  and  did  reward  her  for  daring,  novice  as 
she  was  in  ethics,  to  do  what  her  conscience  approv- 
ed, in  spite  of  the  difficulties  which  surrounded  her. 

While  sitting  in  her  room,  one  morning,  reading 
the  Protestant  Bible  which  Fietro  had  given  her, 
with  her  door  locked,  lest,  though  in  a  professedly 
Protestant  family,  her  secret  should  be  betrayed  to 
the  Jesuit  General,  a  gentle  rap  announced  that  some 
one  wanted  her.  Hastily  coucealing  the  blessed  vo- 
lume which  had  already  given  her  moral  courage  as 
well  as  moral  freedom,  she  opened  the  door,  and  was 
surprised  to  see  Mr.  Wilmot  himself  standing  there, 
who  informed  her  that  a  Mr.  Frentiss,  of  Louisiana, 
desired  to  see  her  in  the  parlour. 

**I  suspect,"  he  added,  '*  that  it  is  some  one  con- 
nected with  that  business  of  yours  in  the  south,  from 
a  question  or  two  that  he  asked  of  me." 

Alice  felt  her  heart  beating  violently  within  her 
breast,  and  as  if  she  were  about  to  suffocate  ;  but 
suddenly,  and  with  great  effort,  rallying  herself,  she 


■Fi 


il 


^'3 


'f 

l^ 


126 


ICYSTBBISS  OF  ▲  OOMVBNT* 


Ml,  [I 


»i'  i 


l,.r    ■, 


'^ 


informed  Mr.  Wilmot  that  she  would  be  in  the  par. 
lour  in  a  few  minutes,  and  turned  to  her  toilet,  as  if 
to  adjust  her  dress.  As  soon,  however,  as  he  had 
closed  the  door,  and  gone  down  stairs  with  his  mes- 
sage, she  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears,  and,  throwing 
herself  upon  her  kuees,  for  a  moment  or  two,  ear- 
nestly implored  guidance  aud  help  from  on  high. 
Then,  arising,  and  bathing  her  eyes,  she  arranged 
her  hair,  and  went  down  to  the  parlour. 

On  her  entrance  into  this  room,  she  saw,  seated 
upon  the  sofa,  a  venerable-looking  gentleman,  of 
some  fifty-five  years  of  age,  very  genteelly  dressed 
in  a  full  suit  of  black —his  countenance  expressive  at 
once  of  intellect  and  of  great  benignity.  Bising  from 
his  seat,  as  Alice  entered  the  room,  he  advanced  to 
meet  her,  and,  with  a  manner  full  of  sympathy  for 
one  whom  he  looked  upon  as  the  victim  of  Bomidi 
oppression,  he  said — 

"  I  have  the  pleasure,  I  presume,  of  taking  by  the 
hand  the  daughter  of  my  much-esteemed  friend, 
Charles  de  Yere.  Let  me  assure  you.  Miss  Emilie, 
for  that  I  believe  is  your  name,  that  it  affords  me 
great  satisfaction  to  see  you  looking  so  well,  and  in 
such  good  health." 

Thus  saying,  and  shaking  her  most  cordially  by 
the  hand,  he  led  her,  with  the  finished  manners  of  a 
polished  gentleman,  to  a  seat  on  the  sofa ;  and  then, 
seating  himself  near  her,  entered  into  conversation 
with  her,  as  to  the  circumstances  which  had  prevent- 
ed him  from  sooner  paying  a  visit  to  her.  He  was 
surprised  to  find,  however,  that  she  was  exceedingly 
bashful  and  reserved ;  that  her  colour  came  and 
went  with  fitful  frequency;  and  that  there  was 
something  about  her  whole  deportment,  which  seem- 
ed to  him  singular.  Yet,  recollecting  that  she  had 
been  reared  in  a  convent,  had  been  for  some  time  a 
nun,  and  was  now  a  refugee  from  its  walls,  he  felt 
disposed,  in  the  kindness  of  his  heart,  to  attribute  it 
all  to  the  past,  and  to  account  for  it  on  the  score  of 


the  seen 
her  abaj 
having  i 
very  fior 
the  assei 
visit  to 
care  to  r 
possible. 
Mr.TVI 
after  Al 
self  to  pi 
to  conve 
this  imp< 
tate  her 
"  You; 
lie,  was 
him.  H 
ness  to  I 

Here 
with  she 
and  she ' 
under  tb 
"Dob 
You  hav 
tiiough  3 
to  assuK 
licism,  ai 
you  ver  J 
for  him, 
that  you 
of  decei 
of  the  CO 
althougl 
with  yoi 
legatee, 
manism, 
nun. 
half  a  m 
that  the 


K.i' 


MYSTEBIES  OF  A  CONVENT. 


127 


the  scenes  which  she  must  have  passed  through,  on 
her  ahandoument  of  a  conventual  life ;  Mr.  Wilmot 
having  painted  to  him,  while  writing  for  AUce,  in 
very  florid  colours,  her  arrival  at  his  house  at  night, 
the  assembling  of  the  mob  the  next  morning,  the 
visit  to  the  mayor's  office,  and  the  result — taking 
care  to  representhimself  in  the  most  favourable  light 
possible. 

Mr.  Wilmot  having  left  the  parlour  a  few  momenta 
after  Alice  had  entered  it,  Mr.  Prentiss  exerted  him« 
self  to  place  Alice  at  her  ease  with  him,  preparatory 
to  conversing  with  her  upon  business ;  but,  finding 
this  impossible,  and  that  every  effort  seemed  to  agi- 
tate her  the  more—he  said  to  her, 

"  Tour  letter  addressed  to  your  father.  Miss  Emi- 
lie,  was  received  in  due  time,  but  was  not  read  by 
him.  He  had  made  his  will,  and  entrusted  his  busi- 
ness to  me,  as  his  executor.   He  was  dead." 

Here  Alice's  feelings  completely  overcame  her 
with  shame  at  the  part  she  was  called  upon  to  act ; 
and  she  wept  freely.  Thinking  this  most  natural, 
under  the  circumstances,  Mr.  Prentiss  proceeded — 

"  Do  not  weep,  my  dear  Miss  Emilie,  so  bitterly. 
You  have  every  reason  to  comfort  yourself.  Al- 
though your  letter  did  not  reach  your  father,  in  time 
to  assure  him  of  your  recantation  of  Boman  Catho- 
licism, and  desire  to  return  to  him,  still  he  loved 
you  very  dearly,  and  felt  assured  of  your  affection 
for  him,  in  spite  of  the  past.  He  regarded  the  steps 
that  you  had  taken,  in  becoming  a  nun,  as  the  result 
of  deception  upon  the  part  of  the  Mother  Superior 
of  the  convent,  or  on  that  of  some  of  the  priests ;  and, 
although  he  bitterly  regretted  it,  yet  he  died  at  peace 
with  you,  and,  in  proof  of  this,  made  you  his  sole 
legatee,  on  condition  that  you  would  renounce  Bo- 
manism,  and,  forsaking  the  convent,  cease  to  be  a 
nun.  His  estate  amounts  to  something  more  than 
half  a  million  of  dollars.  Your  letter  informs  me 
that  the  condition  had  been  complied  with,  before 


:l-;!  \Wj 


Irh 


H 


128 


MYSTEBIE8  OF  ▲  CONVBNT. 


>  .'S 


<    ' 


H'! 


l>. 


you  became  aware  of  its  existence ;  yoii  are,  there- 
fd9re,  the  undisputed  possessor  of  this  vast  fortune 
—and  will  enter  upon  its  enjoyment  as  soon  as  somo 
technicalities  of  the  law  can  he  complied  with,  which 
will  require  but  a  brief  delay.  Meanwhile,  as  I  pre- 
sume you  may  want  some  funds  for  immediate  use, 
I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  handing  you  a  thousand 
dollars,  which  I  have  brought  with  me  for  that  pur- 
pose. The  relations  of  friendship  in  which  I  have 
stood  to  your  father,  and  the  attitude  in  which  I 
stand  to  the  estate,  and  to  yourself  as  the  heiress  of 
its  wealth,  vill  warrant  me  in  tendering  to  you  my 
services,  as  a  protector,  until  you  shall  have  made 
such  other  arrangements  as  you  may  please." 

So  saying,  the  old  gentleman  drew  from  the 
breast-pocket  of  his  coat,  a  large  pocket  book,  and 
was  about  to  take  from  it  the  thousand  dollars, 
when,  to  his  utter  astonishment,  she  threw  herself 
upon  her  knees  before  him,  and,  while  the  tears  ran 
down  her  cheeks,  begged  him  to  take  pity  upon  one 
who  was  an  orphan,  indeed,  but  not  the  one  he  took 
her  for,  and  to  promise  her  upon  his  word  of  honour, 
as  a  Ohristian  man  and  a  gentleman,  that  he  would 
not  divulge,  to  a  living  being,  what  she  was  ahout 
to  relate  to  him. 

The  old  man  looked  upon  the  beautiful  girl,  kneel- 
ing there  before  him,  with  a  heart  full  o£  compas- 
sion ;  and  acquainted,  as  he  had  been  for  very  many 
years  past,  as  a  practising  lawyer  of  great  abiUty, 
with  almost  all  grades  and  phases  of  human  crime, 
and  to  look  upon  the  faces  of  timid,  as  well  as  of  un- 
daunted, rogues  and  criminals  of  both  sexes,  he  had 
become  a  most  excellent  judge  of  human  character. 
He  read  guilt  and  self-condemnation  in  her  counten- 
ance, and  yet,  at  the  same  time,  the  evidence  of  con- 
trition ;  and  wholly  unable  to  account  for  what  was 
transpiring  before  him,  he  lifted  the  kneeling  girl  to 
her  seat,  and,  making  her  the  required  promise,  re- 
quested her  to  relate  her  story ;  assuring  her  that  he 


UYSTEBZBS  OF  ▲  CONYBNT. 


129 


would  befriend  her,  whomsoever  she  might  be,  if  he 
oould  do  so  consistently  with  the  dictates  of  honohr. 

Thusreassured,  and  now  throwing  off  that  restraint 
and  painful  embarrassment  which  she  had  exhibit- 
ed at  the  commencement  of  this  interview,  and  while 
hesitating  at  the  course  that  she  ought  to  pursue, 
but  which  disappeared  when  the  victory  was  deter- 
mined for  conscience — Alice  proceeded  to  tell  Mr. 
Prentiss  all  that  had  transpired,  so  far  as  she  was 
conoerned  with  the  affair  of  the  substitution  of  her- 
self for  Emilie  de  Yere,  from  the  moment  of  her 
first  introduction  to  the  Father  General,  in  the  par- 
lour of  the  convent  in  Canada,  up  to  that  moment ; 
assuring  him,  however,  that,  until  that  late*  hour, 
she  never  knew  why  she  was  required  to  personate 
Miss  de  Yere,  nor  who  she  was ;  much  less  that  she 
was  heiress  to  a  large  estate,  and  that  she,  Alice, 
was  to  be  made  the  instrument  of  getting  this  estate 
into  the  hands  of  the  Jesuits. 

Mr.  Prentiss  was  thunderstruck.  He  was  a  Pro- 
testant, from  principle,  and  a  member  of  the  Metho- 
dist church.  His  feelings  were  averse  to  Bomanism ; 
but  that  so  daring  a  plot  should  have  been  concocted 
in  the  midst  of  an  enlightened  people,  involving  an 
immense  property,  and  should  have  come  so  nigh 
succeeding,  for  he  could  not  doubt,  for  a  moment, 
that  the  witnesses  were  all  provided  t'^  establish  the 
identit]^  of  Emilie  de  Yere  in  the  ;.^etended  Alice ; 
that  this  damning  proof  of  the  high-handed  wick- 
edness of  the  Jesuits  should  stare  him  in  the  face, 
there,  in  the  great  city  of  New  York,  staggered  his 
belief ;  and  he  was  almost  disposed  to  look  upon 
Alice  as  crazy,  or  as  attempting  to  deceive  him.  But, 
when  he  looked  at  her  really  intelligent  countenance, 
as  it  now  beamed  with  honest  satisfaction— the  truth 
having  been  told ; — when  he  thought  how  straight- 
forward and  connected  her  narrative,  and  that  i^e 
could  not  possibly  have  any  interest  to  subserve, 
while  she  ran  a  great  risk  in  thus  confiding  her  story 


.  m 


WM 


M  ;:  , 


130 


ICTSTBBIES  OF  A  OONVEKT. 


b" 


ft 


i!^ii" 


ft 


rf^ 


to  a  stranger,  who,  if  he  were  diapoeed,  might  do  her 
vast  injury ;  he  was  forced  to  the  conviotion  that  she 
had  made  a  truthful  confession  to  him  and  that  it 
had  become  his  strange  privilege  to  look  upon  one  of 
the  dark  plots  of  Bome. 

"  Your  story,"  said  he  to  Alice,  "  shall  never  pass 
my  lips.  But  what  do  you  propose  to  do  P  If  I  can 
befriend  you,  and  I  see  plain  enough  that  you  stand 
in  need  of  a  friend,  I  promise  you  to  do  so. 

*'  Your  frank  avowal  of  this  plot,  so  far  as  you 
stand  connected  with  it,  or  are  aware  of  its  features, 
has  saved  you,  my  child,  from  very  serious  conse- 
quences ;  and  it  would  deeply  interest  me  to  know 
by  what  steps  you  have  been  led  to  adopt  the  course 
which  you  have  pursued.  But  for  this  we  have  not 
time.  You  will  tell  me  that  the  Father  General  re- 
sides in  the  city,  and  that  this  Wilmot,  with  whom 
you  are  staying,  is  a  creature  of  his.  No  doubt  he  is 
already  apprised,  b^  Wilmot,  of  my  presence  here; 
and  he  will  be  anxious  to  know  the  result  of  the 
interview  between  us.  Tell  me,  have  you  no  friends 
in  the  city,  who  could  be  of  service  to  you  in  this 
extremity  ?" 

"  I  have  but  one  friend,  sir,  in  this  world,  so  far 
as  I  know,  besides  yourself,  and  he  is  not  in  circum- 
stances to  aid  me." 

"  Ah !  who  is  he  P"  inquired  Mr.  Prentiss,  with 
eagerness,  as  he  felt  interested  in  the  welfare  of  the 
interesting  girl;  and,  the  more  he  thought  about  it, 
the  more  certain  he  became  that  the  Jesuits  would 
sacrifice  her  to  their  disappointed  avarice,  if  they 
should  discover  that  she  had  been  the  means  of  their 
defeat. 

'*  He  is  a  young  priest,"  replied  Alice,  **  the  pri 
vate  secretary  of  the  Father  General." 

"  A  young  priest,  and  the  private  secretary  of  the 
Father  General !"  repeated  Mr.  Prentiss,  with  as- 
tonishment marked  in  his  countenance  and  tone  of 
voice.      '*  This  is  more  mysterious  still.    I  fear,  mj 


child,  tb 
the  coil 
priestP 

you  11 1 
Alice 
reader, 
-their 
both  the 
first  vis 
they  ha( 
Bubsequ 

to  the  I 

abnegat 

of  maki 

on  a  cor 

spite  of 

"And 

and  yoi 

convenii 

church, 

ly  stran 

concoctt 

suits  in 

immens 

of  anot] 

she  ma 

hroughl 

decease 

with  at: 

arch-i>l 

nounch 

sion  f re 

defeats 

tatefrc 

as^ainsl 

There  i 

the  aff  i 

"la 

oeemed 


1CYSTEBZB8  OF  A  OOMVBNI. 


131 


jht  do  her 
1  that  she 
d  that  it 
on  one  of 

ever  pass 
If  I  can 
'ou  stand 

r  as  you 
features, 
IS  coDse- 
to  know 
le  course 
have  not 
Qeral  re- 
ih  whom 
iibt  he  is 
ce  here; 
;  of  the 
>  friends 
u  in  this 

d,  so  far 
circum- 

«,  with 
e  of  the 
i.boutit, 
3  would 
if  they 
of  their 

^hepri 


child,  that  tou  are,  indeed^  hopelessly  entangled  in 
the  coils  01  the  wilv  Jesuits.  Who  is  this  young 
priest  P  Tell  me  all  about  him— for  I  would  serve 
you  if  I  can." 

AUce  then  related  all  that  has  been  detailed  to  the 
reader,  of  her  first  acquaintance  with  the  secretary 
—their  night  rambles  about  the  city— the  effect,  on 
hoth  their  minds,  of  what  they  saw  and  heard — their 
first  visit  to  the  JProtestant  church,  and  the  sermon 
they  had  heard — its  effects  upon  them ;  and  their 
subsequent  study  of  the  holy  scriptures,  according 
to  the  Protestant  version,  and  subsequent  private 
abnegation  of  Catholicism,  with  the  determination 
of  making  public  profession  of  the  Protestant  faith, 
on  a  convenient  occasion,  and  their  betrothment  in 
spite  of  their  monastic  vows. 

"  And  you  say,"  replied  Mr.  Prentiss,  "  that  you 
and  your  young  friend,  the  secretary,  only  await  a 
convenient  opportunity  to  renounce  the  Catholio 
church,  and  to  get  married.  Well,  truth  is  assured- 
ly stranger  than  fiction.  Here  is  a  villainous  plot 
concocted  by  this  Father  General  of  the  order  of  Je- 
suits in  the  United  States,  to  get  possession  of  an 
immense  fortune  in  Louisiana,  by  the  substitution 
of  another  person  for  a  certain  nun,  in  order  that 
she  may  procure  that  fortune.  A  substitute  is 
brought  all  the  way  from  Canada  to  personate  the 
deceased  or  refractory  nun ;  she  becomes  acquainted 
with  and  betrothed  to  the  private  scretary  of  this 
arch-plotter ;  they  embrace  the  Protestant  faith,  re- 
nouncing their  own ;  and,  by  means  of  this  conver- 
sion from  error  to  truth,  this  very  substitute  herself 
defeats  the  plot,  by  revealing  it,  and  saves  the  es- 
tate from  passing  into  the  hands  of  the  conspirators 
as^ainst  truth  and  justice.  Truly,  this  is  wonderful. 
There  is  a  God  that  ruleth  in  the  heavens,  and  among 
the  affairs  of  the  children  of  men. 

"I  am  not  wealthy,"  continued  Mr.  Prentiss,  who 
eeemed,  for  somemoments^tobe  lost  in  deep  thought^ 


3''  .- 
PI  1.' 

'  1^ 


H    ■• 


m 


M 


ij    'i' 


■■\'.r 


1  JF  f 
11 


132 


UTSTBBIE3  OF  A  CONVENT. 


''but  yoQ  are  honest,  child ;  and  I  think  that  vou 
and  this  priest-love  of  yours  would  do  very  well  if 
you  were  down  in  my  country.  What  say  you  to 
goiDgwithmeP  I  will  pay  your  expenses  and  hii 
there.  You  can  be  married,  and  live  with  me,  while 
he  is  studying ;  and,  after  that,  my  word  for  it,  i{ 
he  is  the  man  you  represen!:  him  to  be,  he  will  nevef 
suffer  you  to  want." 

*'  Gome,"  added  the  good  old  man,  who  seemed  tc 
be  delighted  with  the  prospect,  ^*  we  will  see  tlds 
lover  of  yours  this  very  night,  and  make  all  the  ne- 
cessary arrangements.  Ton  must  communicate  with 
him,  somehow,  and  get  his  consent  to  the  plan. 
Mind,  I  shall  take  no  refusal.  But  we  must  get 
away  from  here  to-morrow  morning,  early ;  or  the 
blood-hounds  will  scent  us  out,  and  get  on  our  track.'' 

" This  is  Thursday,'^  said  Alice— "if  the  Father 
General  does  not  hear  that  you  are  in  town,  Fietro 
will  call  for  me,  as  usual,  to  go  to  church  with  him ; 
and  if  he  does  hear  it,  he  will  be  sent  for  me.  So 
that,  in  any  event,  I  shall  get  to  see  him.  If  you 
will  stand  at  that  comer," — here  Alice  pointed  out 
of  the  window  to  the  corner  of  the  next  square,  be- 
low the  house  in  which  they  were — "  between  half • 
past  six  and  seven  o'clock  this  evening,  we  will  pass 
that  way,  when  you  can  join  us,  and  we  can  further 
talk  of  your  most  generous  offer." 

'*  Agreed,"  said  Mr,  Prentiss ;  and,  shaking  Alice 
cordially  by  the  hand,  he  bade  her  be  of  good  cour- 
age, and  all  would  yet  be  well. 

Fortunately  for  all  of  them,  the  Father  General 
was,  that  night,  at  the  Convent  of  the  Annunciation ; 
having  been  sent  for,  post-haste,  by  the  Mother  Su- 
perior, who  had  some  important  communication  to 
make  to  him.  Pietro  called,  as  usual,  for  Alice,  who 
informed  him  briefly  of  what  had  occurred,  and  of 
the  generous  offer  made  to  them  by  Mr.  Prentiss; 
and,  in  a  few  minutes,  they  joined  the  kind-hearted 
gentleman,  who  was  waiting  for  them  at  the  corner. 


I 


mrSTEBXBB  OF  A  00K7ENT. 


133 


The  three  walked  together  for  some  length  of 
time;  and,  before  they  parted,  the  offer  was  accept- 
ed, and  the  arrangements  all  made  for  their  depar- 
tare,  the  next  day ;  both  Pietro  and  Alice  having 
most  heartily  thanked  their  benefactor,  and  invoked 
the  blessing  of  heaven  upon  him. 

The  mail  stage  of  the  next  day,  going  South,  bore 
the  old  gentleman,  together  with  the  ex-nun,  and 
former  private  secretary ;  the  two  latter  bearing  no 
token  whatever  by  which  the  most  scrutinizing  could 
have  discovered  that  they  ever  wore  sacred  orders. 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

Despotic  nile  of  the  Motlier  Superior— A  revolution  in  the 
convent— The  insurrection  quelled  by  the  Father  Gen- 
eral—Alarmin^r  intelligence,  on  his  return  to  New  York 
—His  frantic  conduct  in  consequence. 

Thbee  days  had  elapsed  after  the  departure  of  the 
fugitives,  under  the  charge  of  Mr.  Prentiss,  when, 
late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  fourth,  the  Father  Gen- 
eral returned  home,  care-worn  and  gloomy.  He  had 
been  called  suddenly  to  the  convent,  to  quell  a  re- 
volt among  the  nuns,  occasioned  by  the  tyrannical 
rule  of  the  Mother  Superior,  who  had  become  so 
capricious  in  her  temper,  and  so  captious  in  her  ad- 
ministration of  the  government  of  the  establish- 
ment, that  those  under  her  spiritual  care,  despairing 
of  redress  unless  effected  by  their  own  act,  had  risen, 
with  one  accord  and  without  a  solitar]^  exception,  in 
open  rebellion ;  and,  deputing  a  committee  of  twelve 
of  their  number,  consisting  of  the  most  influential 
ones  among  them,  to  present  to  the  Superior  a  list 
of  their  grievances,  and  to  demand  redress,  under 
pain  of  being  reported  to  the  Father  General,  in  the 
event  of  her  refusal,  they  ceased  from  all  their  usual 
avocations,  and  roamed  about  the  building,  at  their 
pleasure. 

Deeming  it  her  best  policy  to  tak^  the  lead  in 
calliug  for  the  intervention  of  the  General,  she  told 


■I  '.i 

(It  ' , 


f  I 


fM  :  ■? 


134 


UYSTBBXES  09  A  OOJIVJSUT* 


Iff  i  • 


the  oommittee  that  she  would  take  the  matter  into 
careful  consideration,  if  they  would  resume  their 
duties  in  the  convent,  and,  as  soon  as  they  had  ieft 
her  room,  privately  despatched  a  messenger  for  that 
dignitary,  requestinp^  his  presence  at  the  convent, 
with  as  little  delay  as  possible. 

By  some  means,  it  became  known  to  the  nuns, 
shortly  after  his  departure,  that  a  messenger  had 
been  sent  to  the  city ;  and,  enraged  at  the  duplicity 
of  the  Mother  Superior,  their  revolt  assumed,  if  pos- 
sible,  a  more  serious  character  than  ever ;  and,  when 
the  Father  General  arrived,  it  was  raging  at  its  very 
height. 

By  dint,  however,  of  persuading  some  into  a  good 
humour,  flogging  others  who  were  more  resolute  and 
obstinate,  and  reforming  some  of  the  abuses  of  which 
complaint  had  been  made,  the  General  succeeded  in 
restoring  subordination  and  quiet  among  the  rebel* 
lious  nuns,  who,  accustomed  as  they  were  to  blind 
and  implicit  obedience  to  their  superiors,  must  have 
had  serious  grounds  ^or  complaint  before  they  wonid 
have  ventured  to  take  a  step  of  so  grave  a  character 
as  open  revolution.  But,  during  the  time  that  he 
had  spent  at  the  convent,  he  had  heard  enough  to 
satisfy  his  mind  that  the  temper  of  the  Mother  Sa« 
perior  was  becoming  entirely  too  impetuous  and  un- 
certain to  have  the  charge  of  so  important  a  position 
as  that  which  she  occupied.  Yet,  such  was  her  ac* 
quaintancewith  his  own  past  history — such,  too,  the 
estimation  in  which  she  was  held  at  Home,  as  a  wo- 
man of  extraordinary  talents,  and  one  to  whom  the 
order  was  greatly  indebted  for  her  services  in  pro- 
moting their  interests  in  the  United  States;  and 
such,  also,  her  powers  as  an  intrigante,  that  he  dared 
not  remove  her,  without  some  act,  on  her  part,  which 
should  be  of  so  flagrant  a  character,  and  capable  of 
so  clear  and  decided  proof,  as  to  admit  of  no  possi- 
ble evasion  of  its  results ;  and  this  he  could  hardly 
anticipate  as  possible. 


MYSTBBXSB  OF  A  COITTENT. 


135 


In  this  state  rf  mind,  he  returned  to  hit  residence 
in  the  city,  and,  it  may  well  be  supposed,  in  no  mood 
to  meet  the  startliofif  intelligence  that  awaited  him. 
Giving  his  horse  to  the  proom  at  the  door,  he  enter- 
ed the  hall ;  hastily  unlocking  a  small  box,  which 
was  placed  there  for  the  purpose  of  receiving  what- 
ever documents  mio[ht  be  intended  for  him,  in  his 
absence  from  home,  he  took  out  of  it  several  letters 
and  notes,  and  hastened  to  his  cabinet.  Here,  throw- 
ing these  upon  the  table,  and  helping  himself  to  some 
fine  old  French  brandy,  which  he  kept  in  a  liquor- 
case,  he  sat  himself  down  to  their  perusal ;  for,  ele- 
vated in  dignity  as  was  the  office  which  he  held,  it 
was  no  sinecure ;  and,  whether  at  home  or  abroad, 
his  lot  was  to  labour,  labour,  labour  incessantly, 
save  when  at  his  meals,  or  during  the  five  hours'* 
sleep,  which  was  all  the  time  he  could  allow  even  to 
this  necessary  purpose,  and  from  which  he  was 
aroused  every  morning  by  an  alarum  clock,  placed 
upon  the  mantel-piece  in  his  chamber,  and  fixed  at 
the  early  hour  of  four  o'clock,  winter  and  summer ; 
he  knew  not  what  rest  was.  How  great  the  pity 
that  his  truly  splei  did  talents  and  indefatigable  in- 
dustry had  not  been  applied  to  a  more  valuable  and 
laudable  purpose  than  in  promoting  the  machina- 
tions of  Jesuitism ! 

Having  read  several  letters  before  him,  he  took 
up  one  of  the  notes,  which  read  as  follows : 

"  New  York^  Thursday ^  9  o^ clock. 
"  Most  Bbvebekb  Sib— 

'^Ihave  just  called  to  inform  you  that  a  Mr. 
Ftentiss,  from  Louisiana,  is  now  conversing,  at  my 
house,  with  Miss  Emilie  de  Vere,  in  reference  to  her 
father's  estate ;  and,  finding  you  from  home,  your 
servant  not  being  able  to  tell  me  where,  I  write  this 
note  to  let  you  know  about  it.  I  will  call  again  at 
twelve  o'clock.    "  Your  very  humble  servant, 

"Wm.  Wilmot.'' 

Patting  this  down,  he  took  up  another,  wliose  ad* 


'•1^;^' 


..'■Mi 


I,! 


.  \ 


136 


antSTBBIES  or  a  CONVENTi 


H  ;- 

kf  i 


H^ 


dress  was  in  the  same  hand*  writing,  and  which  read 

thus : 

"  Thursday  y  12  o'eZoeJb. 
«  Most  Revbebnd  Father— 

*,*  I  have  called  ap^ain,  according  to  my  promise, 
bat  still  find  you  absent.  Mr.  Prentiss  and  Miss 
Emilie  had  a  lonf;  interview,  this  morning;  but 
what  was  the  result  of  it  I  know  not,  as  I  had  no 
opportunity  of  listening,  audi  cannot  make  much  of 
her  looks ;  though  I  can  see  a  manifest  change  in 
them,  and  suppose  their  conversation  must  have 
been  of  an  agreeable  character  to  her.  I  will  call 
again,  this  afternoon.   **  Your  devoted  servant, 

"  Wm.  Wilmot." 

A  third  note  remained  upon  the  table,  whose  con* 
touts  were  as  follows : 

"  Friday  Morning^  8  o*  clock. 

"  Most  Reverend  Father  General,  &c,— 
"  Reverend  and  Dear  Sir— I  know  not  what  to  say, 
or  what  to  do.  I  know  that  you  will  be  angry  with 
me ;  but  I  assure  you,  most  solemnly,  that  I  am  in 
no  wise  to  blame.  O,  that  you  were  at  home !  But 
I  must  tell  you,  at  once,  that  Emilie  de  Yere  has  left 
my  house,  and  gone,  I  know  not  where.  As  she  did 
not  come  down  to  breakfast,  this  morning,  at  tbe 
usual  hour,  we  sent  up  to  the  room,  and  were  aston- 
ished to  learn  that  she  had  not  spent  the  night  at 
home ;  at  least,  there  was  no  appearance  of  the  bed 
having  been  used,  which  she  commonly  occupies. 
Her  trunk  is  in  her  room,  unopened  as  yet,  and 
everything  is  iu  order ;  while  not  the  least  trace  can 
be  found  of  where  she  may  be.  If  I  knew  where 
you  were,  I  should  immediately  despatch  a  messen* 
ger  for  you ;  but,  in  the  mean  time,  I  will  spare  no 
pains  to  find  her,  if  she  is  in  the  city.  When  I  called 
at  your  residence,  I  asked,  in  ^our  absence,  for  yonr 
private  secretary;  but  was  informed  that  he  was 
not  at  home,  and  had  not  been  since  last  night. 
Whether  his  absence  has  anything  to  do  with  that 


VTSTEBIEB  OF  A  CONVENT. 


137 


of  tbe  missing  girl,  I  cannot  tell.  Of  one  thing  I  am 
gore,  however,  that  neither  myself  or  family  gave 
Miss  Emilie  any  cause  of  dissatisfaction ;  and  this 
only  makes  the  whole  affair  the  more  mysterious. 

"  Awaiting  your  orders,  I  remain,  with  the  great- 
est respect,       ''  Your  faithful  servant, 

"  Wm.  Wilmot." 

The  Father  General  had  read  this  last  note  with 
profound  astonishment,  increasing  at  every  fresh 
fine,  until,  almost  beside  himself  with  anxiety  and 
rage,  he  was  about  to  seize  his  hat,  and  hasten  to 
I  see  Mr.  Wilmot,  when  his  eye  rested,  for  an  instant, 
upon  another  note^  lying  upon  the  table,  in  the  su- 
perscription of  which  he  immediateljr  recognised  the 
I  band- writing  of  the  secretary.  Seizing  this,  and 
tearing  it  open,  with  an  earnestness  which  indicated 
the  feverish  excitement  of  his  soul,  he  read  the  fol- 
I  lowing  astounding  intelligence : 

^^New  York,  Thursday  Night,  11  o'doch, 

«To  the  Father  General  of  the  order  of  Jesuits  in 
I  the  United  States. 

<<  Bevebend  Sm, 

<*  Before  this  letter  will  have  reached  you,  the 
writer  will  have  been  placed  at  a  distance  from  the 
dty,  which  will  effectually  prevent  the  possibility 
of  his  being  overtaken  by  you.  Where  he  is  gone 
to,  or  what  his  business,  will  perhaps  but  little  in- 
terest you,  when  he  informs  you  that  he  has  for 
ever  renounced  Bomauism,  and  embraced  the  cause 
of  Protestant  Christianity.  Your  past  kindness  to 
fM  would  not  permit  me  to  leave  you,  without  bid- 
ding you  farewell,  and  expressing  for  you,  personal- 
ly, my  warm  wishes  for  your  future  health  and  hap- 
piness. 

In  the  first  drawer  of  the  table  in  the  library,  you 
will  find  the  instrument  of  my  conversion  to  Protes- 
tantism ;  and  the  best  pledge  I  could  give  you  of 
my  sincerity  in  wishing  you  well,  is  the  request  that 
you  will  read  that  blessed  volume,  as  I  have  done, 

224  K 


138 


ICYSTEBIBS  OF  A  CONVENT. 


K -I 

HI 


until  you  "  shall  know  the  truth,  and  the  truth  shall 
miUce  y(yu  free/'  as  it  has  7ne. 

"  Very  respectfully  yours, 

"PlETEO  DI  LODBTTI," 

It  would  be  impossible  to  portray,  iu  language, 
the  state  of  excitement  into  which  the  Father  Gen* 
eral  was  thrown  by  the  perusal  of  this  note.  There 
he  stood,  pale  with  rage,— his  eyes  flashing  fire,  Ids 
teeth  close  set  together ;  while  the  breath  came  thick 
and  fast,  hissing  through  his  expanded  nostrils. 
Presently,  dashing  the  note  to  the  floor,  he  stamped 
upon  it,  as  though  it  had  been  the  cause  of  his  wrath, 
instead  of  being  the  mere  vehicle  through  which  the 
enraging  information  had  reached  him. 

"  Purgatory  and  perdition !"  at  length  exclaimed 
the  infuriated  Jesuit ;  '*  What  is  all  tiiis  ?    Is  the 
whole  herd  of  infernal  spirits  let  loose  upon  me? 
What  next,  I  wonder  f    This  nun,  that  I  have 
brought  all  the  ws^  from  Canada,  in  order  to  y>k 
BO  important  a  part  iu  the  great  game  for  a  forti- 
for  our  treasury ;— she,  too,  I  suppose,  will  be  foun 
to  have  embraced  that  religion  of  fools— Protestant- 
ism — and  to  have  eloped  with  this  pious  secretary  of 
mine,  who,  instead  of  attending  to  my  business,  has 
been  reading  the  Bible  !    St.  Ignatius  grant  ine  pa- 
tience! The  vile  hypocrite  seduces  the  nun  from  her 
allegiance  to  Heaven  and  to  the  Church— runs  off 
with  her-^and  then,  with  frozen  impudence,  prates 
to  me  of  *  the  instrument  of  his  conversion  to  Protes- 
tantism!'— Conversion  to  infamv,  he  should  have 
said :— and  tells  me— aye !  tells  the  supreme  head  of 
the  Jesuits  in  America !— to  *  read  that  blessed  vo- 
lume I'— Curses  upon  it,  and  upon  the  brazen-faced 
knave! — *ashe  has  done,  until  I  shall  know  the 
truth* — which  his  infamous  conduct  has  proved  to 
be  falsehood — *  and  the  truth  shall  make  me  free,  as 
it  has  him  ; — yes^  he  means,  shall  make  me  as  great 
a  looundrel  as  himself .      Holy  Virgin!  how  can  I 
bear  such  iasotonoa  as  this  P— But  why  stand  I  hen 


MYSTEBIBS  OS*  A  CONVENT. 


139 


truth  shall 

8, 
BTTI," 

language, 
Lther  Gen- 
3te.  There 
flg  fire,  his 
3ame  thick 
1  uostrils. 
e  stamped 
his  wrath, 
which  the 

exclaimed 

s?    Is  the 

upon  me? 

at  I  have 

ier  to  y>ltt, 

t  a  f  orti- 

1  be  f  oub 

^rotestant- 

icretary  of 

iness,  has 

>ut  me  pa- 

from  her 

—runs  off 

ce,  prates 

to  Protes- 

ould  have 

e  head  of 


thus,  when  every  moment  is  precious— when  they 
already  have  four  days  start  of  me  ?  I  will  away, 
and  take  instant  measures  for  their  apprehension 
and  return  to  New  York ;  if,  indeed,  this  is  not  all 
pretence  about  their  having  gone  from  the  oi^y. 
Who  knows  but  they  are  now  skulking  in  some  vile 
hole  in  this  very  place ;  while  this  precious  villain 
seeks  to  cover  their  retreat  by  throwing  me  upon  the 
wrong  scent  ?  I  will  put  my  blood-hounds  upon 
ttiehr  track,  be  they  where  they  may ;  and  it  shall 
not  be  my  fault  if  they  are  undiscovered  within 
twenty-four  hours,  if  they  have  not  left  the  city.  If 
they  have,  I  swear,  by  all  the  Saints  in  Heaven,  to 
pursue  them  to  the  death.  Ah  !  they  little  know  my 
power,  if  they  imagine  that  they  can  find  a  hiding- 

?lace  from  my  fury,  in  any  spot  on  this  green  earth, 
'hanks  to  the  Patron  Saint  of  our  order,  we  are 
spread  all  over  the  wide  world ;  and  our  agents  are 
everywhere.  Let  me  but  get  them  once  in  my 
rower,  and  they  shall  realize  the  fearfulness  of  my 
«rrath,  which  they  have  so  boldly  provoked,  and  set 
at  defiance." 

So  saying,  the  enraged  priest  descended  to  the 
street,  and,  in  a  few  minutes,  was  at  the  dwelling  of 
Mr.  Wilmot,  and  seated  in  his  parlour,  waiting  his 
return  from  some  business  errand. 


OHAPTEB  XXVI. 

The  fugitives  arrive  at  Baltimore— Reside  with  Mr.  Bamum 
—A  private  wedding— Proceed  in  a  vessel  for  New  Or- 
leans—Pleasures of  a  sea  voyage— Alarm  at  the  appear- 
ance of  a  supposed  pirate — Preparation  for  action- 
Groundless  alarm— Arrival  at  New  Orleans— Piety  and 
prosperity  of  Pietro  and  Alice. 

Meaitwhile,  Mr.  Prentiss  had  reached  Baltimore, 
with  his  companions,  Pietro  and  Alice,  and  put  up, 
for  a  day  or  two,  at  the  Indian  Queen,  then  tne  best 
hotel  in  the  place,  and  kept  by  that  prince  of  land- 
lords,  iince  gone  to  his  long  rest,  old  David  Baruum. 


'l'^ 


it  If 


140 


MTSTEEIES  OF  A  CONVENT. 


i'  s^    ' 


-.4 

I-' 


W 


'in 

:  4 


Being  an  old  friend  of  Mr.  Prentiss,  the  latter  soon 
took  an  opportunity  of  mentioning  to  him,  in  con. 
fidence,  that  Fietro  and  Alice  were  two  young  friends 
of  his,  who  had  run  away  for  the  purpose  of  getting 
married ;  that  he  would  much  ohlige  them  by  bring- 
ing  to  the  hotel  some  minister,  to  marry  them  at  six 
o'clock  that  evening ;  but  that  it  must  be  done  in 
the  most  private  possible  manner,  without  letting 
any  of  the  inmates  of  the  family  know  anything 
about  it.  Mr.  Barnum  promised  secrecy ;  made  all 
the  necessary  arrangements ;  and,  at  the  appointed 
hour,  the  two  fugitive  lovers  were  united  in  holy 
matrimony,  in  a  private  parlour  of  the  tavern,  by 
the  Bev.  Dr.  Inglis,  then  pastor  of  the  First  Fresby- 
terian  church  in  the  cit^ ;  no  other  witnesses  being 
present,  save  Mr.  Frentiss  and  Mr.  Barnum. 

The  next  day,  it  was  thought  advisable  for  the 
newly-married  couple  to  remain  as  muchin-doorsas 
possible,  and  even  for  them  to  take  their  meals  in 
their  own  room,  to  avoid  all  possibility  of  encounter- 
ing any  one  who  might  be  on  the  look-out  for  them ; 
whilst  Mr.  Frentiss  made  the  necessary  arrange- 
ments for  their  departure  in  a  fine  ship  of  some 
three  hundred  tons,  which  was  to  leave  for  New  Or- 
leans, on  the  following  day. 

At  ten  o'clock,  the  next  morning,  the  anchor  bad 
been  weighed,  the  sails  unfurled,  the  passengers  all 
on  board,  when  the  signal  was  given,  the  canyass 
filled  with  the  freshening  breeze,  and  bidding  Mr. 
Barnum  farewell,  our  little  party,  in  high  spirits, 
and  hopeful  of  the  future,  were  borne  away  from 
the  wharf  at  Fell's  Foint,  by  the  noble  vessel  on 
whose  deck  they  stood.  Fassing  Fort  McHenry,  they, 
after  a  while,  emerged  into  the  beautiful  waters  of 
the  Chesapeake,  and,  with  a  smacking  breeze,  soon 
passed  Annapolis,  and  reached  the  Gapes,  in  twenty- 
four  hours  after  leaving  Baltimore.  Here,  the  pilot 
having  been  discharged,  the  ship  passed  out  into  the 
waters  of  the  ocean,  and  soon  lost  sight  of  laud. 


irrSTEBIEB  07  ▲  OOirrBNT. 


Ul 


There  was  nothing  novel  to  Pietro  in  aseaTOvage, 
but  to  Alice  it  was  a  source  of  wonder  and  delight. 
The  wide  expanse  of  water— the  upheaving  waves — 
the  blue  sky  reflected  in  the  great  mirror  beneath, 
where  the  ever  changing  surface  broke  in  ceaseless 
beauty— the  finny  monsters  disporting  in  the  briny 
fluid— the  novel  characters  around  her,  found  in  the 
weather-beaten  seaman, — the  young  sailor  who  was 
making  his  flrst  voyage,— the  bluff  mate,  and  the  ty- 
rannical little  captain,  as  he  strode  the  deck,  monarch 
of  the  kingdom,  his  ship  over  which  he  reigned  with 
an  iron  rule— the  strange  sounds  which  constantly 
fell  upon  her  ear— these  all  afforded  her  food  for  plea- 
surable excitement,  when,  indeed,  she  was  well 
enough  to  be  on  deck ;  for,  although  she  had  escaped 
sea-sickness,  to  a  considerable  extent,  yet  she  suffer- 
ed a  good  deal,  at  times,  from  nausea,  which  com- 
pelled her  to  lie  down  in  her  berth,  for  hours. 

They  had  idready  passed  those  points  so  formida- 
ble to  seamen,  Bermuda  and  Cape  Hatteras,  and  were 
off  Bahama,  already  rounding  into  the  Gulf  of  Mexi- 
co, between  Cuba  and  the  Florida  Beefs,  when,  one 
morning,  at  day-break,  the  look-out  from  the  mast- 
head cried,  "sail— ho!"  Instantly  the  cry  was  re- 
sponded to  on  deck ;  and  the  captain,  whose  mominsr 
watch  it  was,  having  sent  for  his  spy-glass,  swept 
the  horizon  with  it,  until  at  last  he  discovered  the  two 
topmasts  of  a  rakish  vessel,  peering  just  above  the 
sea,  while  the  hull,  as  yet,  seemed  buried  beneath  its 
waves.  When  first  seen,  the  stranger  was  standing 
athwart  the  ship,  and  crossing  her  path  in  the  rear  ; 
but,  as  soon  as  the  latter  was  discovered  by  the  for- 
mer, she  changed  her  course,  and,  bracing  sharplv  up 
in  the  wind,  followed  directljr  in  the  wake  of  the 
ship,  with  the  manifest  intention  of  overhauling  or 
ovextaking  her.  As  soon  as  this  manoeuvre  was  per- 
ceived by  the  captain,  he  instantly  ordered  the  (n^nt, 
of  which  he  had  several,  to  be  cleared  for  action-— 
the  large  brass  swivel,  which  stood  amid-ships,  to  bd 
loaded  with  grape-shot,  and  those  at  the  sides  with 


m 


tit 


4 


1 

j 

1          ''iL^iL 

142 


ICTSTERIBS  OF  A  COITnfiNT* 


ohain-fliiot;  the  swords  and  small  arms  to  be  ^i 
ready,  as  weU  as  the  boarding  pikes,  and,  in  shorty 
all  hands  to  be  called,  and  evei^  preparation  made 
for  defence.  While  this  was  being  done,  Mr.  Pren- 
tiss, who  had  heard  the  uproar,  came  on  deck,  fol. 
lowed,  in  a  few  momeuts,  by  Pietro,  who  had  also 
been  awakened  by  the  unusual  tramping  of  the  men 
overhead.  The  former  immediately  offered  his  ser- 
vices to  the  captaiu,  in  any  way  that  he  mierht  be 
useful ;  while  the  latter,  doing  the  same,  hastily  re- 
turned to  the  cabin,  to  acquaint  Alice  with  what  was 
^oing  on,  and  to  see  that  her  safety  was  provided  for, 
in  the  event  of  an  action.  Having  arranged  it  so 
that  she  could  retire  into  the  hold,  beneath  the  water 
line,  the  ship  not  being  fully  laden,  whenever  the  pre- 
ficnce  of  dansrer  should  make  it  necessary,  and  having 
sootiied  her  fears  as  much  as  possible,  he  belted  upon 
his  body  a  pair  of  large  pistols  with  which  he  had 
provided  himself  before  leaving  Baltimore,  and  went 
upon  the  deck. 

He  found  that  the  stranger  was  gaining  rapidly 
upon  them ;  for,  while  the  direction  from  which  the 
wind  blew  was  unfavourable  for  the  rapid  progress  of 
the  ship  throu<;h  the  water,  it  was  the  very  one  most 
suitable  to  the  greatest  speed  of  the  clipper  brig  whioh 
was  comiujir  upon  them  with  giant  strides.  Her  top- 
masts had  first  been  seen,  then  her  topsails,  then  her 
lower  sails,  and  then  her  hull,  rising  black  and  threa- 
tening, as  it  were  from  the  bosom  of  the  ocean— her 
masts  having  that  peculiar  rakish  appearance,  for 
which  this  class  of  vessels—^^  dipper»hu%lt  brigs  of 
Baltimore— is  so  remarkable.  Now  she  was  within 
oicrht  or  ten  miles,  '*  walking  the  water,  like  a  thing 
of  life ;"  while  the  ship  seemed  to  creep  at  a  snail's 
pace.  On  she  came;  her  sides  bristling  with  oaunon; 
her  deck  filled  with  dark-looking  men,  armed  to  the 
teeth,  with  cutlasses  and  pistols  stuck  in  their  belts. 

**  A  pirate !— a  pirate  !*'  passed  from  lip  to  lip  of  the 
ftalwart  crew  on  board  the  ship ;  while  not  a  cheek 


blanche 
squads 
the  eye, 
and  ma 

«Ap 
lip  of  tl 
his  eye, 

«Ap 
crew,  ^ 
grow  la 
cheek, 
fenders 

each  01 
the  ord 

«Ay 
intone 
comma 

"Up 
see  whi 

in  the  I 
mediat 
from  t 

the  mi 

«I^ 

We  ha 

a  bow 

«Se 

Anc 

aflasl 

gunsc 

singi 

"I 

capta 

Ido 

On 

ofth 

bowf 

side 


HYSTBBIES  OF  A  OOZrVEI^. 


143 


to  be  got 

♦  w  shorti 
ion  made 
^r.  Pren. 
deck,  fol. 

►had  also 
f  the  men 
^  his  ser- 
miffht  be 
astily  re. 

^hat  Was 
ndedfor, 
red  it  80 
Jhe  water 

•  the  pre- 
d  having 
ted  upon 
^  he  had 
lud  went 


?  rapidly 
'hich  the 
egress  of 
jne  most 
fsr  which 
Ter  top- 
Shan  her 
d  threa- 
an— her 
nee,  for 
bripfg  of 
I  within 
a  thing 
k  snairg 
annon; 
1  to  the 
r  belts. 
)  of  the 
k  cheek 


blanched,  nor  a  nerve  quivered,  as,  standing  in 
squads  by  their  guns,  the  men  looked  each  other  in 
the  eye,  and  felt  that  thejr  could  trust  each  otker, 
and  make  a  good  defence,  m  the  hour  of  need. 

<<  A  pirate ;"  said  Mr.  I^entiss  to  Pietro,  while  the 
lip  of  the  latter  quivered,  and  the  moisture  was  in 
his  eye,  as  he  thought  of  Alice. 

<<A  pirate!"  said  the  Captain,  in  low  tones,  to  the 
crew,  while  his  small  frame  seemed  to  expand  and 
grow  larger,  as,  with  fire-flashing  eye  and  flushed 
cheek,  he  looked  proudly  upon  them,  as  brave  de» 
fenders  of  his  gallant  ship,  and  added,  "  boys — ^let 
each  one  be  true  as  steel.  Hold  your  fire  until  I  give 
the  order;  and  we  will  blow  him  out  of  the  water." 

"  Aye,  that  we  will,  sir,"  rejjlied  a  score  of  voices, 
in  tones  which  manifested  their  confidence  in  their 
commander  and  in  each  other. 

"Up  with  the  ensign,"  cried  the  captain— "let  us 
see  what  colours  he  shows." 

Up  went  the  stars  and  stripes,  floating  languidly 
in  the  breeze,  from  the  spanker  gaff.  This  was  im- 
mediately followed  by  the  exhibition  of  the  same  flag 
from  the  stranger. 

"What  does  that  mean?"  asked  the  captain,  of 
the  mate. 

"  I  do  not  know,  sir,  unless  it  be  to  deceive  us. 
We  had  better  keep  a  good  look  out,  or  we  shall  have 
a  bow-chaser  speaking  to  us,  in  a  few  minutes." 

"  See,' '  said  the  captain, "  there  it  comes  even  now." 

And,  while  he  spake,  there  was  a  cloud  of  smoke, 
a  flash,  a  report ;  and  a  shot  from  one  of  the  bow 
g[UDS  careered  harmlessly  past  the  ship,  and  sank  his- 
sing into  the  water  just  ahead  of  the  good  vessel. 

"  I  do  not  know  what  he  means  I"  remarked  the 
captain,  "  unless  he  wishes  us  to  heave  to ;  and  that 
I  do  not  mean  to  do,  unless  he  comes  abreast  of  us." 

On  came  the  brig— she  was  now  within  a  few  yards 
of  the  shin ;  and^  e£ooting  ahead,  wheeled  round  her 
bows,  ana,  brailing  up  the  lower  sails,  floated  broad- 
side to  the  ship,  distant  one  or  two  hundred  feet. 


'1^'! 


•II 


It 


144 


inrsTEsiES  OF  ▲  coNVBirr. 


<*  What  ship  is  that  P"  cried  th^  captain  of  the  brig. 

"  The  ship  Mercury,  of  Baltimore— nine  days  out, 
bound  for  New  Orleans.    What  brig  is  that  P'' 

**  The  privateer  Hero,  of  Baltimore,  cruisinfi;  on  the 
coiast  for  the  enemy.  Have  you  seen  anything  of 
him  P"  was  the  response  of  the  clipper  captain. 

''Nothing!"  answered  the  commander  of  the  Mer. 
oury ;  and,  with  a  hearty  cheer  from  his  crew,  replj. 
ed  to  by  three  times  three  from  that  of  the  brig,  both 
▼essels  filed  away,  each  pursuing  her  own  track,  and 
were  soon  out  of  sight  of  each  other. 

The  guns  on  board  the  ship  were  again  covered— 
the  arms  and  ammunition  put  away,  while  the  cap. 
tain  invited  his  passengers  to  breakfast,  and,  drawing 
forth  a  bottle  of  fine  old  wine,  oifered  as  a  toast— 
**  Success  to  the  privateer !"  which  all  drank  with 
enthusiasm. 

In  due  time  our  travellers  arrived  at  New  Orleans, 
where  Mr.  Prentiss  procured  horses  for  the  tbree, 
there  being  no  better  means  of  conveyance,  at  that 
early  day ;  and,  in  the  course  of  a  week,  Pietro  and 
his  lovely  wife  were  domesticated  in  the  hospitable 
dwelling  of  their  kind  host  and  his  most  amiable 
comi)anion,  who,  being  apprised,  by  her  husband,  of 
the  interesting  history  of  their  guests,  had  given 
them  that  hearty  welcome  for  which  the  South  bas 
always  been  so  proverbial. 

Here  Alice  soon  made  herself  useful  and  beloved, 
as  well  as  remarkable  for  her  simple  and  consistent 
piety  as  a  Protestant  Christian,  while  Pietro,  bending 
the  energies  of  his  powerful  intellect  to  the  study  of 
the  law,  soon  mastered  its  intricacies,  and  was  admit- 
ted to  practice  as  a  partner  of  his  patron,  Mr.  Pren- 
tiss. In  the  course  of  ten  years,  Pietro  had  become 
one  of  the  most  prominent  lawyers  in  all  that  region 
of  country,  and  was  elected  to  Congress,  where  he 
stood  high  as  an  intelligent,  honest,  and  eloquent 
statesman,  and  was  distinguised  for  his  high-toned 
patriotism.      He  accumulated  property,  as  well  at 


MTSIBBIES  OF  ▲  GOITVENT. 


145 


gathered  great  honours  in  the  practice  of  his  prof es- 
sion;  and,  when  he  died,  left  an  ample  fortune  to  his 
two  children,  the  young  Pietro  and  Alice,  who  were 
worthy  scions  of  a  noble  stock. 

Mr.  Prentiss  never  regretted  the  trip  that  he  had 
made  to  the  North,  in  pursuit  of  his  ward,  EmiUe  de 
Yere,  nor  his  interview  with  Alice  Soule,  which  had 
resulted  so  mysteriously  in  the  rescue  of  a  most  in- 
teresting couple  from  the  hands  of  a  cruel  and  blood-i 
thirsty  persecution,  which  would  have  been  the  sure 
result,  had  this  singular  interposition  of  Divine  Pro- 
vidence not  been  made  in  their  favour — and  it  was  to 
him  a  source  of  high  gratification  to  relate  the  par- 
ticulars of  their  history  to  his  friends,  whenever  oc- 
casion served,  and  to  leave  them  recorded  among  his 
papers,  as  a  reminiscence  of  events  which  had  occur- 
red in  his  own  history  in  a  diary  of  his  life,  which 
he  made  for  the  use  of  his  children. 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

The  Father  Generars  interview  with  Mr.  Wilmot~An  an- 
gry disputation— Crimination  and  re-crimination— The 
arch-plotter  vows  vengeance  against  his  tool— ^Proceeds 
to  put  his  threat  in  execution— Interview  with  Mr. 
Eetchum— The  Father  General*  s  orders  to  him— Scouts 
sent  in  all  directions,  in  search  of  the  fugitives — All 
search  in  vain—Mr.  Wilmot  and  his  family  ruined,  and 
turned  out  in  the  streets— Tidings  of  the  lost  fugitives, 
from  Father  Beaupres. 

Wsleft  the  Father  General  seated  in  the  parlour  of 
Mr.  Wilmot,  awaiting  his  return  from  some  business 
errand  in  town,  and  will  now  look  in  upon  the  inter- 
view which  occurred  between  these  two  worthies. 

When  Mr.  Wilmot  returned  from  down  town,  as 
he  called  it,  he  found  the  Father  General  in  no  ami- 
able mood ;  and,  no  sooner  had  he  opened  the  door 
of  the  room  in  which  the  latter  was  seated,  than  the 
General  began  a  tirade  of  abuse,  which  was  of  the 
fiercest  character.  He  upbraided  him,  in  the  ooars- 
Mtlangoage,  for  oonuivauce  at  the  escape  of  tiie  nun, 


1 1 


fe-:;      : 

1 

mm 

, 

! 

,l-J!,      .     ■ 

i 

1 

1 

m 

\ 
\ 

a 

f 
i     ■ 

V 

\ 

f'  ■ 

1 
'-   '  ' 

;    i 

'.    i 
J  ■■' 

t 
■1 ' 

1; 
1 

lifettsl 

1 

I 

1 

^^. 

1 

Mf!v 

'V'#  11 

■ ' } 

ii>>«ii ' 

i 

H 

i^ 

1 

.  .iy. 

t 

pm 

( 

I 

1 

p 

1' 

146 


HTBTEBIBS  OF  A  OONVBNT. 


B         11 


and  told  him,  to  his  face,  that  he  was  a  liar  and  a 
BCOundreL  Mr.  Wilmot,  although  a  OathoUOi  and 
a  pliant  tool  in  the  hands  of  the  Jesuits,  having  a^ 
compUshed  for  them  many  a  dirty  piece  of  intrigue, 
was  yet  a  man  of  some  indepeudeuoe  of  foeliug,  as 
well  as  of  very  strong  and  irritable  temper,  aud 
could  not  whoUy  repress  the  risings  of  resentment  at 
the  unreasonable  conduct  of  the  Geueral,  who,  borne 
away  by  disappointment  at  the  flight  of  Fietro  and 
AUce,  would  listen  to  no  excuse  upon  the  part  of  Mr, 
Wilmot,  but  sought  to  wreak  his  vengeance  upon  the 
latter,  whoin  he  persisted  in  cousideriug  as  an  ac- 
complice. This  the  latter  resented,  and,  forgetting 
himself,  indulged  in  some  imprudent  retorts,  which 
but  incensed  the  priest  the  more ;  until  both  were 
excited  to  the  highest  pitch,  and  fiercely  hurled  at 
each  other  epithets  which  could  have  only  come  from 
the  lowest  and  most  degraded  convicts  of  our  prisons 
and  penitentiaries.  At  length,  the  General,  fall  of 
malice,  and  convinced  in  his  own  mind,  that  it  was 
wholly  impossible  that  the  escape  of  Alice  should 
have  been  without  the  connivance  of  Mr.  Wilmot, 
said  to  him : 

*^  You  shall  smart  for  this,  you  scoundrel.  You 
have,  for  purposes  of  your  own,  and  disregardfulof 
the  interests  of  the  church,  dared  to  brave  my  anger, 
and  aid  this  girl  in  her  escape,  or  at  least  connived 
at  it,  to  the  great  detriment  of  those  interests^'tis 
well ;  you  shall  feel  the  weight  of  my  anger  before 
forty-eight  hours  have  rolled  over  your  head.  Mark 
well  what  I  say.  William  Wilmot,  your  doom  is 
sealed !" 

So  saying,  the  General  left  the  parlour,  slamming 
to  the  door  with  violence  behind  him,  and,  with  bis 
countenance  flushed  with  anger,  went  forth  into  the 
street,  and  sought,  with  hurried  steps,  his  own 
dwelling. 

Having  arrived  at  home,  and  ascended  to  his  ca- 
binet, he  drew  from  the  iron  safe  a  larsre  red  poc1cet< 


mrSTdBIES  OF  ▲  OONVENT. 


U7 


book,  and  opening  it,  took  out  a  small  packet  of 
notes  of  hand  for  yaricus  amounts,  and  from  these, 
three,  to  which  was  afiixed  the  name  of  William  Wil- 
mot,  all  of  them  dated  some  time  back,  due  one  day 
after  date,  and  amounting  together  to  six  thousand 
seven  hundred  and  fifty-two  dollars,  with  interest 
from  their  date ;  and,  hastily  penning  a  note,  rang 
the  hell  to  summon  a  servant.  Ou,  the  appearance 
of  the  latter,  he  handed  him  the  note,  and  bade  him 
take  it  to  Mr.  Ketchum,  the  lawyer,  and  bring  back 
au  immediate  answer. 

In  about  twenty  minutes,  the  servant  returned, 
and  informed  his  master  that  Mr.  Ketchum  awaited 
bis  pleasure,  in  the  drawing-room  below. 

**  Show  him  up,"  was  the  response  of  the  Father 
General,  who  was  deepl^r  engaged  in  the  examina- 
tion of  some  papers  which  were  lying  upon  the  ta- 
ble before  him. 

Mr.  Ketchum,  meanwhile,  was  introduced  into 
the  cabinet,  withir  whose  walls  he  was,  by  the  way, 
quite  intimate,  having  frequently  visited  them  be- 
fore ;  and  being  seated,  the  General  proceeded  to  tell 
him,  as  much  as  he  deemed  necessary  of  the  arrival 
and  subsequent  flight  of  the  nun,  requesting  Mr. 
Ketchum  to  take  immediate  steps  for  the  quiet 
search,  throughout  the  city,  for  the  fugitives ;  tell- 
mg  him  that  he  would  give  him  one  thousand  dol- 
lars, if  successful,  and  pay  all  the  expenses  incurred. 
The  lawyer,  having  received  from  the  General  a 
written  description  of  the  personal  appearance  of  the 
fugitives,  was  about  to  retire,  for  the  purpose  of  in- 
stituting search  after  them,  when  the  Father  detain- 
ed him,  for  a  moment,  to  say  that  he  wished  him  to 
take  the  three  notes  which  he  handed  to  him,  pre- 
sent them  for  immediate  pavment,  and  if  not  paid 
at  sight,  to  bring  suit  upon  them,  and  get  the  money 
immediately. 
Thelawyer.  who  wasa  nominal  member  of  the 

Baptist  church,  but  really  a  Jesuit  in  disguise,  bow- 


,  !"- 


148 


ICTSTBBXBS  OV  ▲  CONVENT. 


i 


tfl 


ed  low,  and,  promising  to  oomply  with  the  inttnio. 
tions  of  the  Geueral,  and  to  loso  no  time,  withdrew 
to  carry  them  into  effect.  In  the  course  of  two  hou^ 
not  less  than  thirty  men  were  exploring  the  citv,ia 
every  direction,  in  pursuit  of  the  runaways,  and  in* 
quiring[  at  everjr  probable  or  possible  source  for  in. 
formation,  but  in  vain  ;  while  so  quietly  was  tlui 
iuvestigation  made,  and  so  systemized,  as  to  thedii- 
trict  or  quarter  of  the  city  in  which  each  of  the 
agents  pushed  his  iuquiries,  that  not  one  of  theae 
thirty  agents  knew  anything  of  the  rest,  or  that  there  I 
were  others  besides  himself  engaged  in  the  pursuit! 

Meanwhile,  au  officer  appeared  at  the  store  of  Mr. 
Wilmot,  and,  taking  him  to  one  side,  preseuted  the 
three  uotes  for  payment,  informing  him  that,  if  they  I 
were  not  paid  instantly,  suit  would  be  brought  upoa 
them,  and  the  money  made,  without  regard  to  the  | 
consequences. 

Mr.  Wilmot  turned  deadlv  pale,  and  told  the  offi. 
cer  that  he  could  not  possibly,  at  so  short  notice, 
raise  such  an  amount ;  but  that,  if  he  could  haye  | 
four  or  five  days  in  which  to  do  it,  he  thought  he ' 
might  possibly  save  himself  from  ruin,  by  procuring 
assistance  from  some  of  his  friends.  The  officer  in- 
formed him  that  his  orders  were  peremptory,  and  on 
his  being  told  that  Mr.  Wilmot  had  not  the  money, 
and  could  not  pay  the  notes,  he  served  a  writ  upon 
him,  and  took  the  legal  steps  necessary  to  secure  the 
property  in  the  establishment  from  being  made  away 

In  ten  days  from  that  time,  the  store  of  Mr.  Wil- 
mot, with  all  its  contents  and  the  furniture  of  hit 
dwelling,  were  sold  under  execution,  and  himself 
and  family  turned  into  the  streets,  beggared.  The 
Father  General  was  avenged. 

No  efforts,  however,  that  he  could  put  forth,  hy 
means  of  agents,  by  writing  letters  abroad,  or  other- 
wise, could  procure  any  tidings  of  the  fugitives,  until 
at  length  a  letter  came  from  the  Father  BeanpreS) 


HTBTBBXBS  07  A  00N7B1VT. 


149 


ho  inttruo.! 
^  withdret 
'  two  houii 

tys,  andin.! 
ttTceforin. 
y  was  thii 
stothedii. 
aoh  of  the 
^eof  theasl 
r  that  thew 
he  pursuit 
tore  of  Afr. 
iseuted  the 
lat,  if  they 
mght  upoa 
ard  to  the! 

>Id  the  offi. 
ort  notice,! 
sould  have  I 
thought  he 
'  procuring 
)  officer  in* 
>ry,  and  on 
:he  money, 
writ  upon 
secure  the 
Dade  away 


jtB&ton  Bouge,  informing  him  of  the  anrival,  at  that 
Iplace,  of  Mr.  iSrentiss,  together  with  a  young  man 
and  his  wife,  both  of  foreign  features,  who  were  Pro- 
testants, however,  and  inmates  of  his  family,  but 
about  whom  he  could  learu  nothing.  From  the  de* 
soription  given  of  their  persons,  nevertheless,  the  Fa- 
ther General  became  convinced  that  they  were  (he 
fugitives,  and  immediately^  wrote  to  his  correspond- 
ent at  B^ton  Bouge,  stating  his  conviction  on  the 
subject,  and  requiring,  the  priest  there  to  give  him 
constant  information  of  their  movements,  and  to 
learn  all  he  could  about  them.  Such,  however,  was 
the  high  respectability  of  their  protector,  and  his 
and  their  own  vigilance,  at\  they  kne^/  that  they 
would  be  watched,  and  their  lives  bo  in  jeopardy, 
that  neither  the  General  nor  hU  srbordinate  ever 
dared  to  do  aught  against  them,  or  ^o  their  injury. 


CHAPTER  XXVITI 

Growing  abuse  of  power  by  the  Moth(  r  s^iiperior— Tud  Fa- 
ther General  resolves  to  remove  her  by  a  violent  death 
—The  Mother  Superior  determines  on  a  similar  fiate  foL' 
him— Double-dealing  of  Sister  Martina— By  her  exag- 
gerated reports  of  the  Father  General's  intrigues  with 
the  nuns,  the  Mother  Superior  wrruRht  up  to  a  stpte  of 
frenzy— Fiendish  exultation  of  Martina  at  the  success 
of  her  scheme — The  instruments  of  death— Soliloquy 
and  prayer  of  the  Mother  Superior^Change  in  her  de- 
portment 

Meanwhile,  the  Motl^-'r  Frances  was  becoming 
more  and  more  involved  h«  difficulty  as  regarded  the 
administration  of  rule  in  the  Convent  of  Annuncia- 
tion. The  nuns  were  turbulent  and  rebellious.  The 
Father  General  ire;:  fdved,  from  his  private  agents  in 
the  establishment,  accounts  of  the  tyranny  and  op- 
pression of  the  Mother  Superior ;  but,  as  yet,  nothing 
had  been  done  by  her,  which  would  afford  him  the 
opportunity  lor  which  he  had  so  long  waited— no- 
thmg  that  would  justify  her  removal  or  degradation. 


i  i^H  4 


.  ,1  '  4 


150 


mrSTEltlEB  0$*  A  OONVEKt. 


At  length,  wearied  out,  and  his  patience  ezhanst* 
ed,  for  he  was  frequently  called  upon  to  Tisit  the 
convent,  and  to  interpose  his  authority  for  the  ad* 
justment  of  the  difficulties  which  daily  aros&hetween 
the  ruler  and  the  ruled,  he  at  last  determined  to  take 
the  matter  into  his  own  hands,  and  to  adopt  a  course 
which  would  accomplish  the  desired  end,  without 
leaving  any  possibility  of  disagreeable  consequences 
to  himself.  In  short,  he  determined  to  hasten  the 
departure  of  the  good  Mother  from  the  scene  of  hei 
tribulation  and  trial,  and  to  place  her  in  a  situation 
to  be  canonized  as  a  saint ;  rightly  believing  that  the 
nuns  of  the  Convent  of  the  Annunciation  would 
much  rather  worship  her  as  a  saint,  enrolled  among 
the  departed  worthies  whose  names  are  so  numer- 
ous among  the  devotees  of  the  Catholic  church,  than 
obey  her  as  a  tyrant  on  earth ;  and  that  once  out  of 
the  way,  no  particular  inquiry  would  be  made  by 
the  inmates  of  the  convent,  as  to  the  mode  of  her 
death ;  while  her  friends  and  admirers  abroad  could 
be  put  off  with  any  plausible  tale.  Having  arrived 
at  this  amiable  conclusion,  the  General  only  awaited 
a  fitting  opportunity ;  and  for  this  he  did  not  wait 
VOTV  long. 

The  Mother  Superior,  on  her  part,  however,  had 
strangely  enough  arrived  at  a  determination,  not 
less  full  of  good  intention  and  of  canonization  for  the 
Father  General,  than  his  for  her.  She  had  become 
apprized,  in  due  time,  not  only  of  what  had  taken 

5 lace  between  the  General  and  the  deceased  Sister 
Theresa;  but  through  Sister  Martina,  whom  the 
former  had  unwittingly  offended,  and  who,  at  once, 
to  avenge  herself  upon  the  General,  and  to  mortify 
and  annoy  the  Mother  Superior,  concealed  nothing 
of  what  she  knew  to  have  transpired,  for  years  pas^ 
in  the  history  of  his  connection  with  the  nuns  ox  the 
convent,  the  Superior  had  learned  M  about  his  in* 
trigues  and  ooquettiugs  with  the  fair  sisterhood* 
Nor  had  the  statement  made  to  her  been  one  of  plain, 
unyaruished  f  aot8|  but  had  been  greatly  exaggeratedt 


MYSTEBIES  07  A  OOlTTE^l*. 


151 


Sister  Martina  told  her  that  the  Father  General 
Ineyer  yisited  the  conveut,  without  spending  a  por- 
tion of  his  time  in  the  room  of  this  or  of  that  nun  ; 
Ithat  he  sometimes  met  them  in  the  garden,  and  some- 
times received  visits  from  them  in  his  own  room  ; 
that  she  had  more  than  once  ^oue  to  the  door  of  the 
latter,  when  she  knew  that  ho  had  a  nun  with  him, 
and,  putting  her  ear  to  the  key-hole,  had  listened  to 
their  whispering  conversation,  and  had  overheard 
remarks  made  about  her,  that  were  of  the  most  of- 
fensive character.  Indeed,  the  Sister  Martina,  in 
these  conversations  with  the  Mother  Superior,  spai'- 
ed  not  her  ima^^ination,  but  delighted  to  draw  large* 
ly  upon  it,  while  she  rejoiced  in  her  very  heart  at 
the  writhings  of  her  *  listener,  as  the  poison  of  jea- 
lousy and  hatred  diffused  itself  through  her  dark 
and  malignant  soul.  With  all  the  self-possession  of 
the  Mother  Superior,  the  workings  of  her  mind 
would  betray  themselves— would  speak  out  from  her 
countenance,  as  the  blood  boiled  in  her  veins,  and 
thoughts  and  purposes  of  vengeance  sprang  up,  cla- 
morous for  execution. 

Sister  Martina  had,  by  her  address,  wormed  her- 
self into  the  confidence  of  the  Father  General,  and 
had  made  herself  necessary  to  his  purposes.  She 
was,  in  fact,  at  that  very  time,  carrying  on  for  him 
an  intrigue  with  a  young  and  handsome  nun  in  the 
convent,  who  had  but  recently  taken  the  vows  of  the 
order,  and  who  was  one  of  the  converts  from  Pro- 
testautism,  made  out  of  the  family  of  boarding  pu- 
pils. This  intrigue  she  did  not  hesitate  to  commu- 
nicate to  the  Mother  Superior—and  to  apprise  her 
that,  on  that  day  week,  Sister  Paulina  had  consent- 
ed to  see  the  Father  General,  in  the  garden  of  the 
convent,  in  a  pretty  little  summer-house  that  had 
been  erected  about  a  year  before,  and  was  now  co- 
vered thickly  with  clematis  and  other  pretty  vines  in 
full  bloom ;  the  hour  of  their  meeting  to  be  mid* 
night  Thanking  her  for  the  information,  the  Mo- 


fl 


152 


XT8TEBIBS  OF  A  CONTBNT. 


ther  Superior  kissed  the  Sister  Martina,  with  great 
apparent  affection,  and,  bidding  her  be  discreet,  and 
Bay  nothing  to  the  General  about  the  conversatioQ 
that  had  taken  place  between  them,  dismissed  her, 
for  the  present,  saying  that  she  would  resume  it  at 
another  time. 

Sister  Martina  turned  away  with  an  expression  of 
high  satisfaction  upon  her  wrinkled  and  ugly  fea- 
tures ;  while  her  deformed  person  receded  from  the 
presence  of  her  Superior,  with  the  stealthy  tread  and 
almost  tortuous  windings  of  a  serpent ;  and,  when 
she  had  reached  her  room,  she  exclaimed  with  a 
laugh,  which  was  like  that  of  a  fiend  who  has  ac« 
complished  some  infernal  purpose. 

**  Ha !  ha  !  how  the  poison  works  !  How  she 
writhed  in  my  hands,  as  I  lot  loose  the  scorpions  of 
jealousy  and  rage  in  her  soul !  How  pale  she  be- 
came, and  then  how  flushed !  Ha !  ha !  It  does  me 
good  to  see  her  thus  tortured.  I  know  how  to  play 
with  her  feelings,  and  my  revenge  for  all  the  insults 
and  injuries  she  has  heaped  upon  me,  shall  be  to 
take  her  in  my  hand  as  I  would  a  poor  earth-worm, 
and  my  soul  shall  sate  itself  with  vengeance,  as  I  see 
hers  writhing  in  agony  before  me.  Thus,  too,  will 
I  have  satisfaction  for  the  insult  offered  to  me  by 
the  Father  General.  He  called  me  the  dwarfish  vir- 
gin, did  he,  when  talking  with  Sister  Paulina,  and 
laughed  at  the  idea  of  my  never  haviug  had  *  an 
offer  of  matrimony  P'  'Tis  well,  I  will  goad  this 
Mother  Superior  until,  driveu  to  desperation,  she 
shall  commit  some  deed  of  violence  ;  and  then  will 
I  be  revenged  on  both.*' 

The  Mother  Superior  had  retired  to  her  oratory, 
and  there  was  engaged  in  walking  up  and  down  the 
small  room ;  her  countenance  now  deadly  pale,  as 
though  she  were  suffering  mortal  agony,  and  now 
suffused  with  crimson,  as  though  the  feverish  blood 
would  burst  the  veins,  and  leap  forth  impatient  of 
restraint.     Yiolently  agitated,  she  gestic-'lated  an- 


SIYSTEHIBS  OF  A  OONTBNT. 


153 


grily,  wliile  she  at  times  muttered  to  herself  words 
of  angry  resolution  and  of  dark  and  bloody  purpose. 
At  length,  she  paused  for  a  few  moments,  and,  with 
her  fore-finger  pnd  thumb  supporting  her  chin  as  it 
rested  upon  th.>n),  her  arms  folded  upon  her  bosom, 
she  stood  sternly  tliinkiiig ;  then,  approaching  the 
escritoire,  she  unlocked  it,  and  drew  forth  a  short 
dagger,  enclosed  in  a  silver  sheath,  and,  taking  it 
from  the  scabbard,  felt  its  point,  with  great  care,  as 
if  she  would  assure  herself  of  its  sharpness  and  readi- 
ness for  use.  Apparently  satisfied,  she  replaced  it, 
aud  then,  approaching  a  small  table  on  one  side  ox 
the  room,  upon  which  stood  a  beautiful  work-box, 
inlaid  with  mother  of  pearl— the  gift  of  the  Father 
General  in  other  days— she  unlocked  it,  and  drew 
forth  a  small,  white  paper,  neatly  folded,  which,  on 
being  opened,  was  found  to  contain  a  whitish  pow- 
der. This  she  looked  at,  for  a  moment,  with  a  min- 
gled expression  of  joy  and  sadness,  and,  putting  it 
back  into  its  receptacle,  resumed  her  walk,  from  tune 
to  time,  audibly  expressing  herself  thus : 

^^  'Tis  a  life  of  toil,  aud  care,  and  anxiety,  at  best: 
why  should  I  wish  to  live  ? 

^'  He,  whom  alone  I  have  loved  in  all  the  world, 
has  ceased  long  since  to  care  for  me— has  long  de- 
ceived me— and  now,  loves  another— he  must  atone 
for  his  infidelity  to  me. 

'*  His  vile  paramour  shall  perish  in  his  arms. 

'^  I  will  be  avenged!" 

Thus,  communing  with  her  own  thoughts,  she  spent 
an  hour  or  more,  and  then,  throwing  herself  upon 
her  knees  before  the  crucifix,  bent  her  head  in 
prayer  to  the  Virg;in,  while  she  implored  *'  the  Mo- 
ther of  Qod"  to  aid  her  in  the  purposes  which  she 
had  formed.  Thus  do  the  self-deluded  devotees  to 
a  Boul-destroying  superstition,  insult  high  Heaven, 
by  imploring  their  objects  of  worship  to  assist  ihem 
in  theaccomplishmentof  themostdiabbUcalof  crimes. 

Having  completed  her  orisons,  she  arose,  calm  and 
224  z, 


154 


MYSTERIES  OF  A  GOITVEKT. 


tranquily  and  went  forth  from  the  oratory,  with  firm 
determination  written  upon  her  brow,  and  with  a 
pladdness  of  manner  which  did  not  fail  to  attract 
the  attention  of  the  inmates  of  the  family,  and  was 
reverted  to  by  more  than  one  of  them  after  the  occur- 
rence of  events  which  transpired  within  the  next  ten 
days,  and  whose  recital  will  occupy  the  ensuing  chap- 
ter. Indeed,  more  than  once,  during  this  interval, 
the  attention  of  the  nuns  was  attracted  to  the  very 
peculiar  deportment  of  the  Mother  Superior,  who 
seemed,  at  times,  to  be  greatly  abstracted  in  thought, 
yet  to  have  suddenly  grown  kinder  in  the  treatment 
of  those  around  her,  and  voluntarily  to  commend 
herself  to  their  regard,  by  the  reformation  of  some 
abuses,  and  the  institution  of  some  regulations  which 
conduced  to  their  comfort. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

The  Father  General's  visit  to  tho  convent— His  courteous 
and  afEiEible  reception — The  Mother  Superior  suddenly 
changes  her  demeanour,  and  accuses  him  of  inconstancy 
^-He  8ol3mnly  denies  the  accusation— She  reiterates  the 
charge,  and  requests  him  to  swear,  by  the  virgin,  that 
it  is  false,  ere  she  will  believe  him— She  stabs  him,  while 
taking  the  oath — Paulina,  another  victim  to  her  guilty 
passion,  stabbed  by  the  Mother  Superior,  in  the  arbour 
— Destroys  herself  by  poison. 

Some  eipht  days  after  the  time  of  the  last  conversa- 
tion which  occurred  between  the  Mother  Superior 
and  Sister  Martina,  as  related  in  the  preceding  chap- 
ter, the  Father  General  paid  a  visit  to  the  Convent  of 
the  Annunciation. 

He  was  received,  by  the  Superior,  with  an  unusual 
degree  of  kindness  and  affability ;  an  unusual  mani- 
festation of  gratification  at  his  arrival,  which  did 
not  fail  to  attract  his  notice ;  and  when,  on  inquiry 
of  several  of  the  nuns,  in  private,  they  informed  him 
that,  for  a  week  past,  a  remarkable  cmange  seemed  to 
have  come  over  the  spirit  ol  their  rufer ;  that,  in 


ttlTSTSBISS  OF  A  GONVBNl?. 


155 


abort,  she  had  spoken  to  them  in  tones  of  kindliness 
^had  made  several  important  changes  in  the  estab- 
lishment, of  her  own  accord ;  and  had,  duriuK  that 
time,  been  very  much  reserved,  it  is  true,  and  had 
worn  a  very  pensive  countenance,  yet  had  given  no 
fresh  occasion  for  complaint — the  General  was  sur- 
prised, yet  pleased,  and  began  to  imagine  that,  at 
length,  without  any  effort  on  his  part,  the  Mother 
Superior  had  determined  to  change  her  policy ;  while 
he  was  not  a  little  gratified  to  think  that  he  would 
not  be  compelled,  after  all,  to  resort  to  a  mode  of  re- 
dress which  was  really  repugnant,  even  to  his  feel- 
ings, unscrupulous  as  he  was  in  regard  to  the  adop- 
tion of  means  for  the  accomplishment  of  his  ends ; 
ever  acting  upon  the  prime  motto  of  the  order,  that 
"  the  end  sanctifies  the  means." 

He  was  introduced  into  the  parlour  of  the  convent, 
where  the  nuns  and  boarding  pupils  were  assembled 
to  greet  him.  The  Mother  Superior  exerted  herself 
to  entertain  him ;  her  noble  conversational  powers 
appearing  to  be  taxed  to  their  utmost,  to  make  the 
visit  a  most  agreeable  one.  The  tea-table  was  sup- 
plied with  several  unwonted  delicacies,  which  were 
freely  shared  in  by  all  i)resent.  Happiness  and  con- 
tentment sat,  for  the  time,  on  all  faces,  while  none 
seemed  to  enjoy  the  occasion  more  than  the  Superior. 
The  Father  General  was  surprised,  yet  deceived — 
and  sought  in  vain  to  read  the  countenance  of  the 
Superior.  She  met  his  eye  without  quailing,  and  ap- 
T  eared  to  look  upon  him  with  unusual  affection. 
Whatever  were  her  real  feelings,  they  were  so  com- 
pletely disguised  as  to  be  beyond  the  reach  of  detec- 
tion. No  one  for  a  moment  dreamed  of  the  possible 
occurrence  of  anything,  in  the  course  of  a  few  hours, 
which  would  fill  every  mind  with  horror,  and  cause 
even  the  dark-hearted  Martina  to  tremble  with  af- 
fright. It  was  a  scene  of  masterly  acting  on  the 
part  of  the  Superior ;  only  finding  its  counterpart  in 
that  which  took  place  in  her  private  parlour  and  in 


*i'tH 


\  m 


m. 


11 


m 


MVStJUtXBS  09  A  COKVBITFk 


Up''    : 


her  oratory ;  within  the  two  or  three  hours  immedi- 
ately succeeding  the  pleasant  interview  of  the  mem- 
bers of  this  numerous  family  around  the  tea-table— 
or  in  those  in  which,  at  different  periods  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  Jesuits — their  bri<;htest  geniuses  have  ex- 
hibited the  most  perfect  control  over  every  thought 
and  feeling,  as  well  as  over  ever^  physical  organ 
which  could  outwardly  convey  an  idea  of  what  was 
passing  internally,  and  in  which  the  mrntle  of  fair- 
est hypocrisy  has  been  thrown  over  the  darkest  and 
most  damnable  intents  and  purposes. 

Bisiug  from  the  tea-table,  the  Mother  Superior, 
with  her  most  graceful  and  winning  manner,  invited 
the  Father  General  to  the  private  parlour,  for  con- 
ference, as  she  said,  upon  the  affairs  of  the  convent, 
and,  preceding  him,  led  the  way  to  that  room  which 
had  witnessed  80  many  curious  interviews  between 
these  two  remarkable  characters. 

Having  entered  this  retired  apartment,  where  no 
prying  eye  could  reach  them,  the  Superior,  havin<( 
fastened  the  door,  as  she  usually  did  when  she  had 
any  very  important  communication  to  make,  most 
courteously  invited  the  General  to  be  seated,  aud, 
placing  herself  by  his  side  upon  the  sofa,  took  his 
hand  m  hers,  and,  in  tones  of  the  softest  note,  re- 
called images  of  the  past,  scenes  which  had  long 
gone  by,  and,  while  the  tear  stood  in  her  eye,  linger- 
ed upon  reminiscences  of  endearment  and  of  fond- 
ness which  were  common  to  them  both,  and  which, 
while  they  oast  a  sadness  upon  her  features,  ftuch- 
ed  his  heart,  and  melted  it  into  an  unwonted  mood, 
covered  over  as  it  was  with  the  crust  of  selfishness, 
and  indurated  by  the  feelings  and  dark  purposes 
which  had  so  long  dwelt  there.  He  joined  freely  iu 
the  conversation,  and  seemed  to  take  pleasure  in  gra- 
tifying the  state  of  mind  into  which  the  Superior 
had  fatten. 

Thus  passed  away  an  hour,  when  the  Superior 
arose,  aud,  poshing  aside  the  sliding  panel  which  se- 


MYSTEBIES  OF  A  C017VSNT. 


167 


parated  the  private  parlour  in  which  they  were  seat- 
ed, from  the  bed-chamber,  invited  the  Q^neral  to  Ti« 
sit  her  oratory,  where  she  had,  she  said,  something 
to  show  him.  Passing  through  the  chamber,  they 
soon  stood  in  the  room  beyond,  where,  opening  a 
small  cabinet,  she  showed  him  the  various  presents 
which  she  had  received  from  him,  from  time  to  time, 
arranged  together  upon  the  shelves.  Here  was  the 
pretty  work-box  inlaid  with  mother  of  pearl ;  a  rich- 
ly bound  breviary,  with  golden  clasps ;  a  beautiful 
crucifix  in  ivory ;  a  variety  of  ornaments  in  gold, 
gemmed  with  rich  jewels  ;  several  volumes  in  ele- 
gant bindings  ;  and  many  articles  of  price  and  vertu ; 
all  of  which  she  seemed  to  have  treasured  up  with 
great  care,  and  to  have  preserved  as  tokens  of  affec- 
tion. Putting  her  arm  around  him,  and  reclining 
her  head  upon  his  shoulder,  while  she  pointed  to 
these  gifts  thus  arranged  in  their  beautiful  receptacle, 
she  said  to  him,  in  accents  which  fell  upon  his  ear 
with  peculiar  significance,  and  which  caused  him  to 
tremble,  he  knew  not  why,  yet  so  as  to  be  evident 
both  to  her  and  to  himself, — 

'*  Francois,  once  vou  loved  me ;  but  now  you  love 
me  not.  The  evidences  of  your  former  affection  I 
have  gathered  together  here,  and  have  delighted  to 
look  upon  them.  It  is  pleasant  to  do  so  still,  al- 
though that  affection  is  now  transferred  to  another, 
and  has  been  shared  with  others,  while  I  fondly 
thou}(ht  it  was  all  my  own." 

"You  wrong  me,  Louise,  indeed  you  do,"  replied 
the  (General. 

"Nay,  Francois,  do  not  attempt  any  longer  to  de- 
ceive me,  nor  yourself.  Tou  love  me  not.  Another, 
now  in  this  building,  has  your  affections — you  know 
it— Gk)d  knows  it." 

"  lis  false  as  midnight  is  remote  from  noon-day !" 
cried  the  Jesuit. 

"  And  yet  at  midnight— but  two  hours  hence— yon 
are  to  meet  Paulina  in  the  arbour  in  the  garden,  la 
it  not  so  F*' 


-1^ 


I 

(I 

li 
I 


-^ 


158 


MYSTBUIES  OF  ▲  OOinTRNT. 


<<  It  is  not  80,"  replied  the  General.  « Paulina! 
Paulina !"  he  addea,  suddeuly  assuming  a  thought- 
ful attitude,  as  if  endeavouring  to  call  some  one  to 
his  mind  whom  he  had  forgotten — "  Paulina— I  know 
no  one  of  that  name— who  is  she  P" 

"  The  young  nun  who  hut  recently  took  the  veil." 

"  Ah  !  I  recollect  her  now,"  responded  the  Geiu 
eral — '*  I  recollect  her  now,  hut  have  never  seen  hir 
since  the  day  upon  which,  in  the  chapel,  she  assum- 
ed the  religious  hahit.  Who  can  have  told  you  thut 
I  was  to  meet  her  in  the  garden  to-night  P" 

**  No  matter  who  told  me,"  said  the  Mother  Supe- 
rior,  "  if  it  he  not  so.  You  know  how  I  loved  you 
—with  what  rare  affection.  It  is  no  wonder  that  I 
should  he  jealous,  when  I  am  conscious  that  I  grow 
old,  and  that  my  attractions  are  not  what  they  once 
were.  But  no  matter — if  you  are  sincere  in  what 
you  have  just  said— if  you  really  are  not  pledged  to 
meet  Paulina  in  the  arhour  to-night,  at  midnight, 
place  ^our  hand  upon  that  crucifix,  and  swear,  by 
the  Virgin,  that  it  is  not  so ;  and  I  will  helieve  you, 
and  love  you  with  all  my  heart's  deepest  love." 

Without  a  moment's  hesitation,  the  Jesuit  ap- 
proached the  crucifix,  and,  standing  with  his  back 
towards  the  Mother  Superior,  placed  his  hand  upou 
the  symhol  of  his  faith,  and  made  the  solemn  decla- 
ration of  his  undivided  attachment  to,  and  affection 
for,  her. 

Meanwhile,  as  he  had  advanced  to  the  crucifix, 
and  while  his  hand  was  placed  upon  it,  the  Superior 
had  drawn  forth,  from  her  bosom,  the  dagger  whose 
point  she  had  examined  with  such  care  a  few  days 
before,  and,  stepping  up  quietly  behind  him,  just  as 
he  pronounced  the  words— 

"I  call  upon  thee,  most  Holy  Mother  of  God,  to 
witness  that  I  love  Louise,  and  Louise  on  earth—" 

She  plunged  the  dagger  to  his  heart,  crying,  as  slie 
did  so— 

**  Perjured  wretch  \  die,  and  go  to  perdition,  with 


arrsTEBZBS  of  a  oontbnt. 


159 


the  damning  falsehood  yet  trembling  apon  thy  lip. 
QOf  reap  the  abundant  harvest  of  your  falsehood  md 
treachery,  in  the  regionsof  eternal  infamy  and  woe !" 

With  a  cry  of  mortal  agony,  the  Father  Gleneral 
fell  to  the  floor,  suddenl^r  turning  half  round,  as  the 
weapon  penetrated  his  vitals,  so  as  to  fall  not  upon 
his  raoe,  but  upon  his  side ;  and  the  blow,  havmg 
been  but  too  fatally  aimed  at  his  heart,  a  convulsive 
throe  or  two  ensued,  and  Louise  stood  alone,  there 
iu  her  oratory,  with  the  dead  body  of  Francois  Ju- 
bert  lying  at  the  foot  of  the  crucifix,  ui>cu  which  he 
had  but  Qie  moment  before  perjured  himself. 

Louise,  the  Mother  Superior,  drew  from  her  pocket 
a  handkerchief,  with  wmch  she  carefully  wiped  the 
blade  of  the  dagger ;  and  then,  replacins  the  latter  in 
its  sheath,  and  throwing  the  handkerchief  upon  the 
floor,  she  stood  for  a  few  moments  with  her  arms 
folded,  looking  down  upon  the  dead  body,  and  thus 
exclaimed — 

<' If  there  be  an  hereafter,  Francois  Jubert,  yon 
are  now  in  perdition,  and  I  am  avenged  for  the 
wrongs  you  have  done  me.  Two  hours  more,  and 
she,  whom  you  would  have  ruined,  this  night,  as 
you  have  ruined  me,  will  be  in  eternity  too  !  I,  too, 
shall  quietlv  follow.  The  morning's  sun  will  arise 
to  see  us  pale  and  ghastly,  and  to  tell  to  the  world 
the  story  of  woman's  love,  of  woman's  revenge! 
Francois,  I  will  soon  be  with  you.*' 

So  saying,  she  turned  away,  locking  the  door  of 
the  oratory  behind  her,  as  she  entered  the  bed-cham- 
ber, and  throwing  herself  upon  the  bed,  remained 
quietly  there  imtil  the  convent  clock  told  the  hour  of 
midnight. 

Arising  from  her  couch,  she  threw  a  cloak  around 
her,  and,  drawing  the  hood  over  her  head,  passed 
through  the  private  parlour,  carefully  locking  the 
door,  and  groping  her  way  along  the  corridor,  and 
down  the  great  stairway  until  reaching  the  back 
door,  she  went  out  into  the  dark  night,  and  stealth- 


160 


MYSTEitXBS  OF  A  OONYENT. 


.ft''  ^, 


ily  advanced  to  the  garden.  Here  she  found  tbe  gate 
closed ;  and,  rightly  supposing  that  no  one  as  yet  had 
passed  before  her,  she  entered »  and  hastened  to  the 
arbour.  Here,  listening  for  a  moment  to  ascertain  1! 
any  one  were  there,  she  entered,  and,  taking  her  seat, 
awaited  the  coming  of  the  Sister  Paulina. 

The  arbour  was  constructed  of  lattice  work,  with 
large  intervals,  but  was  so  thickly  overgrown  with 
clematis  and  other  running  vines,  as  that  whatever 
little  light  was  emitted  from  the  stars  was  entirely 
excluded,  and  all  was  darkness  within.  Yet,  as  the 
entrances  were  at  either  end,  one  seated  within  could 
very  distinctly  recognize  the  person  of  him  or  her 
who  should  seek  to  enter. 

The  Superior  had  not  been  long  seated  before  a 
light  step  was  heard  advancing  towards  the  arbour ; 
and  presently  she  distinguished  the  figure  of  the  Sis- 
ter  JPaulina  peering  into  the  darkness,  as  if  endea- 
Youring  to  ascertain  if  any  one  were  there. 

''  I  will  seat  myself  for  a  while,"  she  said,  "  until 
he  comes.    He  will  be  here  presently." 

So  saying,  she  entered,  and  seated  herself  directly 
opposite  to  the  Superior,  who,  having  previously 
drawn  forth  the  same  dagger  whi:  h  she  had  used,  a 
short  time  before,  for  the  destruction  of  the  Father 
General,  suddenly  sprang  forward,  and,  seizing  the 
trembling  girl,  before  she  had  time  to  scream  or  to 
make  the  least  resistance,  pluneed  the  weapon  into 
her  bosom,  exclaiming,  as  she  did  so — 

"  Die,  base  wanton  ;  I  am  the  Mother  Superior." 

The  poor  girl  was  not  instantly  killed ;  and  the 
Superior,  finding  this  to  be  the  case,  gave  her  two 
successive  stabs  with  the  sharp  instrument,  before 
signs  of  life  ceased  to  be  exhibited ;  then,  throwing 
down  the  weapon,  by  the  side  of  the  dead  body,  she 
left  the  arbour,  and,  regaining  the  building,  went  up 
stairs  to  her  chamber  ;  leaving  the  door,  leading  di- 
rectly into  it,  unlocked.  Going  to  a  table  upou 
which  stood  a  decanter  of  water  and  a  goblet,  she 


aCYSTBItXEfl  OF  ▲  CONVENT. 


161 


took  from  her  bosom  the  folded  paper,  which  she 
had  looked  at  in  her  oratory,  a  few  days  before  ; 
and  pouring  its  contents  into  the  water,  she  drank 
the  poisoned  liquid,  without  pausing  or  hesitation. 
Then,  lying  down  upon  her  couch,  she  composed 
her  limbs  decently,  and  soon  fell  into  a  lethargy, 
from  the  effects  of  the  poisonous  drug  she  had  swal- 
lowed.     Anon  the  potion  begun  to  work  its  deadly 
office ;  and,  ere  the  light  of  morning  dawned  on  the 
convent,  the  Mother  Superior,  burdened  with  all  her 
crimes,  was  summoned  into  the  presence  of  her  Maker. 
Thus  perished,  by  her  own  hand,  this  eztraordin« 
ary  woman,  who,  had  she  been  earl^r  trained  up  in 
the  principles  of  a  pure  and  holy  religious  life,  might 
have  become  an  ornament  to  her  sez.    Deprived,  in 
early  life,  of  the  care  and  attention  of  her  mother, 
and  subjected  to  the  stern  and  almost  unparental 
temper  and  disposition  of  her  father,  she^  no  doubt, 
early  imbibed  some  of  those  incipient  traits  of  char- 
acter which  so  awfully  marked  her  future  guilty  ca- 
reer.   And  then,  another  important  ad  j  unct  in  smo- 
thering her  better  feelings  was,  the  circumstance  of 
her  being  subjected,  in  the  days  of  her  youth,  to  be 
a  sufferer  from  the  direful  events  which  overspread 
her  unhappy  country,  during  the  reign  of  terror  that 
marked  the  French  revolution.      But    the  great 
source  from  whence  sprung  the  turbid  streams  which 
blackened  and  defiled  her  future  life,  was  unques- 
tionably to  be  traced  to  the  soul-destroving  dogmas 
and  vile  superstition  which  so  peculiarly  character- 
ize the  Bomish  system.    She  was  undoubtedly  a  wo- 
man of  strong  passions ;  and,  for  the  accomplishment 
of  her  purposes,  and  the  attainment  of  any  object 
she  had  bent  her  mind  upon,  no  obstacle  appeared 
too  difficult  for  her  to  surmount,  nor  any  crime  too 
heinous  for  her  to  perpetrate,  so  that,  bv  so  doing, 
she  might  be  enabled  to  gratify  her  pride,  her  lust^ 
and  her  ambition.  To  rule  and  domineer  over  others 
was  her  darling  object ;  and  woe  be  to  that  daring 


I  RiR'. 


i:!  i 


162 


2ITSTBBXB8  OV  ▲  CONVENT* 


v! 


individual  who  called  in  question,  or  endeavoni^d 
to  thwart,  her  authority  I  No  subtlety  or  cunning 
could  circumvent  her  vigilance.  She  was  a  thorough 
Jesuit;  and  duplicity  and  subterfuge  were  allMi 
which  she  had  ever  ready  at  command,  to  assist  het 
in  any  nefarious  project  on  which  her  mind  wai 
bent.  In  short,  she  was  a  fit  instrument  to  cany 
out  the  great  object  which  Popery  has  ever  aimed 
to  accomplish,  namely,  to  increase  the  number  of  iti 
deluded  victims,  however  base  and  dishonourable 
the  means  employed  to  accomplish  that  object,  and 
to  destroy  heretics,  and  every  other  obstacle  that  op* 
posed  the  success  of  this  unholy  design. 


---*- 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

Alarm  and  consternation  in  the  convent^Discovery  of  the 
dead  bodies— The  bodies  of  the  Mother  Superior  and  Sis- 
ter Paulina  laid  in  the  same  grave — ^AU  efforts  to  elud* 
date  the  mystery  in  vain— The  offices  of  Father  Oenenl 
and  Mother  Superior  filled  up— Partial  revelations  and 
suspicions  of  the  dying  Sister  Martina— Closing  remarki. 

Gbbat  was  the  consternation,  the  next  morning,  io 
the  convent,  when,  after  matins,  from  which  the 
nuns  missed  both  the  Father  General  and  the  Mo* 
ther  Superior,  as  well  as  the  Sister  Paulina— a  ser- 
vant went  to  the  room  of  the  Superior,  and  found 
her,  after  ineffectually  knocking  at  the  door,  stretch- 
ed lifeless  upon  her  bed ;  her  very  handsome  features 
wearing  a  very  slight  indication  of  a  momentary 
pang  of  pain. 

The  servant  was  horror-struck  at  what  she  beheld, 
and  soon  raised  the  alarm,  by  her  cries,  when  the 
room  was  quickly  thronged  by  the  astonished  aod 
terror-iStricken  nuns,  who,  gazing  at  the  corpse,  and 
then  in  one  another's  faces,  seemed  to  ask  of  each 
other  the  question — *'Who  has  done  thisP"  No 
answer,  however,  was  returned :  and  all  was  envelop* 
ed  in  mystery,  perplexity,  and  fear. 

As  soon  as  the  excitement  respecting  the  deceased 


SITSTBBXB8  OV  ▲  CONVENT. 


163 


iother  Superior  was  loinewhat  abated,  the  atten- 

ion  of  the  niins  was  directed  to  the  misainff  Fatbei' 

«neral.    Search  was  made  for  him,  throuffhoat  the 

tnvent,  in  every  room  to  which  they  could  gain  ac- 

loess,  but  he  was  nowhere  to  be  found  ;  and  they 

IgaYe  over  their  endeavours  to  find  him,  under  the 

unpresBion  that  he  had  left  the  convent. 

The  anxiety  of  the  nuns,  on  account  of  the  non« 
appearance  ox  the  Sister  Paulina  amongst  them,  was 
not  80  great ;  as  they  imagined  she  might  be  detain- 
ed in  her  cell,  through  indisposition.  Great,  how- 
ever, was  the  consternation  and  dismay  of  the  whole 
nsterhood,  when,  an  hour  or  two  after  finding  tha 
body  of  the  Mother  Superior,  two  or  three  of  the 
nuns,  who  were  walking  in  the  gaiden,  entered  the 
arbour,  and  there  found  the  dead  body  of  Sister  Pau- 
lina, stabbed  in  three  places,  and  surrounded  by  a 
pool  of  blood.  They  were  almost  petrified  with  as- 
tonishment and  dread,  and  looked  around,  expecting 
that  some  assassin  was  lurking  near,  and  that  they 
might  probably  be  the  next  victims.  Becoveriuff, 
however,  from  their  stupor,  they  summoned  assist- 
ance, and  had  the  body  conveyed  into  the  house. 

At  length,  on  the  utemoon  of  the  second  day, 
after  they  had  interred  the  Mother  Superior  and  the 
Sister  Paulina,  and  that  most  strangely  too,  in  the 
very  samd  grave,  it  occurred  to  some  of  the  nuns 
that  they  had  not  looked  into  the  oratory.  This  they 
found  locked;  but,  on  breaking  into  the  room,  I?ow 
they  were  shocked  to  discover  the  lifeless  form  of  the 
Father  General  ui)on  the  floor,  lying  at  the  foot  of 
the  beautiful  crucifix.  Everythmg  in  this  room,  as 
in  the  bed-chamber  and  in  the  private  parlour,  wore 
an  air  of  intense  repose.  There  were  no  signs  of 
violence,  or  of  mortal  struggle  between  contending 
parties.  Who  could  have  perpetrated  t)ie  dark  deeds 
which  met  the  gaze  of  the  nuns,  and  of  the  priests 
who  had  been  summoned  to  their  aid,  in  the  oratory^ 
the  bed-chamber,  and  the  arbour  in  the  garden  f 


164 


MTSTEBIES  OF  A  CONTBNT. 


,i1 


It  was  a  m  jsterv  which  none  could  unravel.  Ani, 
taking  into  consideration  the  high  poaition  of  tS 
least  two  of  the  parties— the  head  of  the  order  of 
Jesuits  in  the  United  States — the  Superior  of  thel 
Convent  of  Annunciation—- there  was  a  daring  atJ 
tached  to  the  perpetrator  of  the  deed,  which  showedl 
that  the  assassin  was  of  no  common  order.  I 

Every  nun,  every  inmate  of  the  family,  was  eare«| 
fully  and  most  rigidly  scrutinized,  questioned,  andl 
cro3s-questioned,  but  all  in  vain :  nobody  knew 
aught  about  it,  save  those  who  had  been  actors  ia| 
that  dreadful  tragedy,  and  they  were  past  beioj^ 
questioned.  Sadness  and  gloom  fell  upon  the  inha«l 
bitants  of  the  convent.  The  suite  of  rooms,  hitherto 
appropriated  to  the  Mother  Superior,  were  carefully 
locked  up — everything  remaining  just  as  she  left  it, 
and  contmued  so  for  years. 

The  place  vacated  by  the  death  of  the  Father  Gen- 
eral was  duly  filled— that  of  the  Mother  Superior 
was  also  supplied— the  dead  had  been  buried  and 
well-nigh  forgotten,  when,  at  length,  the  Sister  Mar* 
tina  came  to  lie  upon  her  death-bed ;  and,  consci- 
ence prompting  her,  she  sent  for  the  then  Superior 
of  the  convent,  and  related  to  her  the  events,  m  the 
life  of  her  predecessor,  with  which  the  dying  nun 
stood  in  anywise  connected ;  the  conversations  which 
had  taken  place  between  the  Mother  Frances  and 
herself;  her  jealousy  and  writhiugs  under  the  feel- 
ings which  the  conduct  of  the  Father  General  had 
awakened  in  her  bosom  ;  and  the  suspicions  that 
were  aroused  in  the  mind  of  Sister  Martina,  on  the 
discovery  of  the  dead  bodies,  that  the  Mother  Frances 
herself  was  the  murderer  of  the  General,  of  the  nun, 
and  then  had  tak  n  poison  to  destroy  her  own  life. 

There  seemed,  to  the  Mother  Superior,  to  whom 
this  relation  was  made,  but  too  much  ground  to  be- 
lieve that  it  was  as  the  dying  nun  suspected ;  but, 
beyond  these  suspicions,  there  was  but  little  positive 
evidence  of  any  kind« 


HYSTEB1E8  09  A  OOIWBNT. 


165 


laition  of  It 

R?  order  oA 
Mr  of  the 
danng  at. 
"Oh  showed 

...wascaw.! 

[Jwoned,  aod 
Podj  knew 
*n  actors  in  I 
past  beiDi?! 
»n  the  inha. ' 
^^f  hitherto  I 
re  caref ullf 
» she  left  i(| 

''ather  Gen. 
er  Superior 
buried  and 
Sister  Mar. 
^^9  consci. 
m  Superior 
9ut8,  m  the 
^yJng  nun 
ions  which 
■ances  and 
r  the  feel- 
sneral  had 
'ions  that 
ua,  on  the 
5r  Fraucea 
f  the  nun, 
)wn  hfe. 
to  whom 
nd  to  he- 
ed; but, 
( posit/ye 


The  threats  uttered  against  Julia  Moretoo,  as  re- 
irded  in  another  portion  of  this  work,  and  their 
ilfiknent,  will,  together  with  the  events  transpiring 
the  life  of  Pietro  di  Lodetti  and  his  wife,  8ubse« 
luent  to  their  settlement  in  Louisiana,  afford  mate- 
ial  for  a  continuation  of  the  story,  should  the  re- 
ption  of  that  which  is  now  given  to  the  public,  be 
ittch  as  to  induce  the  writer  to  venture  upon  a  se- 
md  application  of  his  pen  to  a  sort  of  composition 
which  it  has  been  hitherto  a  stranger.  He  does 
iot  pretend  to  say  that  any  of  the  personages  of  this 
rama  are  real,  nor  any  of  the  events  which  he  has 
Irecorded  are  true ;  but  he  does  believe  that  events, 
not  wholly  dissimilar,  have  occurred,  and  may  occur 
again.  He  does  believe  that  the  true  spirit  of  Jesuit- 
ism has  been  portrayed ;  and  that  dark,  and  forbid- 
ding, and  abhorrent,  as  may  be  the  picture,  it  but 
too  faithfully  depicts  the  principles  and  practices  of 
an  order  which  requires  vows  of  poverty,  chastity, 
and  obedience,  only  in  order  to  wealth,  to  impunity, 
and  to  sensual  indulgence— to  the  subversion  of  ci- 
vil, religious,  and  intellectual  liberty,  and  to  the  sub- 
stitution of  an  iron  oppression  and  a  bloody  super- 
stition. He  has,  in  short,  written  his  story  in  as 
strong  terms  as  he  was  capable  of,  in  order  to  sym- 
bolize that  which  cannot  be  too  darkly  or  too  strong- 
ly coloured,  and  in  reference  to  which,  after  all  that 
has  or  can  be  imagined  of  it,  it  may  still  be  affirmed 
that  truth  is  stranger  than  fiction. 


CONCLUSION. 

Summary— Lessons  to  be  gained  from  a  right  use  of  the 
narrative— The  duty  of  parents — Cautions  to  young  por- 
sons— Connection  between  Popery  and  infidelity— Sure 
downfall  of  error  and  superstition— Earnest  entreaty  to 
embrace  the  truth. 

In  reviewing  the  foregoing  narrative,  the  reader 
may  perceive  some  very  important  lessons.  The 
first  is,  that,  when  we  sustain  the  responsible  office 


4:'1 


»i) 


A  I 


Ola 


m 


i'  M*« 


166 


MTSTEBIES  OP  A  CONVENT. 


j!     1* 


hf\ 


of  parents,  we  should  be  very  careful  in  the  trainiDol 
and  culture  of  the  minds  of  the  children  committed 
to  our  care.  The  second,  that  the  impressions  we 
imbibe  in  the  days  of  our  childhood  and  youth,  have 
much  to  do  with  our  career  in  after-life.  The  third, 
that  we  should  be  very  cautious  how  we  give  ear  to  | 
those  who  are  ever  ready  to  instil  into  our  miuds  er- 
roneous and  pernicious  principles  and  tenets,  which, 
if  fostered  and  cherished,  may,  evetitually,  peril  the 
safety  of  our  never-dying  souls.  There  are  other 
important  lessons  to  be  gained  by  the  careful  per- 
usal and  diligent  study  of  this  narrative ;  but  these, 
for  the  present,  shall  suffice  for  the  purpose  of  a 
short  comment. 

There  are  few  parents  but  wish  the  temporal  and 
eternal  welfare  of  their  offspring ;  and  yet,  how  often 
is  it  the  case  that,  from  a  mistaken  policy  or  want  of 
proper  judgment,  the  course  they  take  for  the  at- 
tainment of  the  object  they  have  at  heart,  is  the  one 
diametrically  opposed  to  the  accomplishment  of  their 
wishes.  This  has  been  exemplified  in  several  in* 
stances  in  the  course  of  this  narrative.  Parents,  who 
had  a  conscientious  dread  of  the  evils  of  Popery, 
yet,  without  seriously  reflecting  on  the  step  they 
were  taking,  have  placed  their  children  in  the  very 
vortex  of  the  evils  they  most  dreaded.  Beware,  then, 
I  say  again,  parents,  how  you  act  in  regard  to  the 
training  and  culture  of  those  who  are  dear  to  you. 

But  what  shall  I  say  to  those  who  are  in  the  morn- 
ing of  life  ? — whose  prospects  are  brij^ht  and  glowing 
with  fancied  happiness  in  store  for  their  future 
years?  You  have  not  yet  bej?un  to  experience  the 
realities  of  life  ;  but,  be  assured,  those  realities  will 
be  dark  and  troublesome,  or  bright  and  cheering,  ac- 
cording as  you  commence  your  career  in  life's  jour- 
ney. You  are  surrounded  by  temptations ;  and  one 
false  step  may  be  productive  of  incaicul  .^ble  misery 
in  thftf  world,  and  everlasting  woe  in  another.  Store, 
ikeu,  your  youthful  miuds  with  the  truths  of  God's 


2CTSTEBXES  09  A  CONVEKf. 


167 


I  word ;  these  will  guide  and  direct  you  in  the  devious 
'path  which  you  may  have  to  tread ;  and  will  pre- 
Tort  you  from  listeuiug,  with  a  willing  ear,  to  the 
wily  sophistry  of  those  who  would  endeayourto  lead 
you  astray  from  the  path  of  rectitude  and  truth, 
into  the  way  that  ends  in  destruction,  misery,  ana 
eternal  death. 

The  present  age  is  peculiarly  remarkable  for  the 
strenuous  exertions  which  the  enemies  of  the  pure 
and  uuadulterated  religion  of  Jesus  Christ  are  mak- 
ing to  bring  discredit  upon  its  diyine  doctrines  and 
precepts.  Infidelity  (and  I  consider  the  Bomish 
superstitions  as  nearly  assimilated  to  infidelity  as 
any  false  system  can  be)  is  openly  atii]  Tmblushingly 
advocated  m  the  ears  of  congregated  thousands  of 
our  fellow-creatures.  There  are  Jesuits^ — not  be- 
longing to  the  Bomish  system  only, — going  about 
the  length  and  breadth  of  our  land,  striying  to  pro- 
pagate their  soul-destroying  principles,  and  imbue 
the  minds  of  the  ignorant  and  unwary  with  error, 
superstition,  and  unbelief.  But  what  ayail  ?  All 
their  puny  efforts  will  be  abortive,  and  will  recoil 
upon  their  own  heads. 

Who,  that  have  read  the  foregoing  pages,  but  must 
shudder  ^.t  the  harrowing  scenes  and  the  dreadful 
acts  therein  portrayed  ? — And  these  are  the  conse- 
quences of  the  blind  implicit  faith  in  a  system  re- 
pugnant to  the  genius  of  Christianity.  Eoman  Ca- 
thohcism,  as  it  is  believed  and  practised  in  most  of 
the  monasteries  and  convents,  is  a  system  that  is 
fraught  with  the  grossest  delusions,  and  pre^^nant 
with  the  most  calamitous  results  to  those  who  believe 
in  its  fallacious  doctrines.  Many  who  have  held 
high  places  in  the  Catholic  church,  in  past  ages,  have 
been  tained  with  the  blackest  crimes ;  and,  even  in 
the  present  day,  there  are  dignitaries  in  that  church, 
on  the  continent  of  Europe,  whose  lives  and  conduct 
are  as  different  from  the  lives  and  conduct  of  the 
Apostlei,  as  light  is  from  darkness.    I  would  not  bo 


jife 


168 


UTSTBBIES  09  k  OOMVKNT* 


unoharitable,  and  denounce  all  who  are  connected 
with  that  denomination.  There  are  good  men  to  be 
found  amongst  that  body;  but,  taken  as  a  whole, 
the  great  majority  are  designing,  base,  hypocritical, 
and  treacherous.  But  it  is  the  system — religion  it 
can  scarcely  be  called — which  1  denounce :  it  is 
closely  connected  with  infidelity,  and  is  the  source 
of  more  crime  and  suffering  than  any  other  system 
that  prevails  amongst  mankind.  **  Come  out  of  her, 
then,  my  people,  and  be  ye  separate ;  touch  not  the 
unclean  thing,  lest  ye  be  defiled." 

The  time  is  approaching,  when  Popery,  and  every 
other  false  form  of  worship,  shall  give  place  to  the 
genuine  and  unadulterated  worship  of  the  true  and 
fiving  God,  and  of  his  Son,  Jesus  Christ :— when 
the  mists  of  ignorance  and  superstition  shall  be 
chased  away  by  the  light  of  the  life-giving  beams  of 
the  Word  of  Truth.  Tes,  Babylon  must  fall ;  the 
Mother  of  Harlots  must  be  brought  low ;  and  im^ 
ages  and  crucifixes,  and  every  other  idol,  shall  be 
cast  away ;  and  peoples  and  nations  shall  bend  the 
knee  to  Jesus,  and  acknowledge  him  Lord  over  all, 
blebsed  for  evermore!  May  all  who  rer.d these 
pages,  be  instrumental,  through  the  blessing  of  Al- 
mighty God,  in  hastening  that  glorious  time,  when 
the  kingdoms  of  this  world  shall  become  the  king- 
doms of  God,  and  of  his  Christ. 


POINTED  FOE  TUB  B00IkSELI.iJ:BB. 


M^KI^^   MOISrii. 


1 

! 

1 

N,    ■ 

^5. 

tvv^'. 


11 


LV 
N 


parti 
her 


AWFUL  DISCLOSUEES 


OE 


MARIA  MONK, 


AS  EXHIBITED 


|n  a  larratiire  of  Jer  Srferfngs 

DUBmO  HEB  BBSIDENOB    OF  FIVB  TBABS  AS  A 

NOVIOBy  AND    TWO  YBABS  AS  A    BLACK  NUN, 

nr  THE  HOTEL  DU  NUNITEBT  AT  MONTBBAL. 


«  Come  out  of  her  my  people,  that  ye  be  not 
partakers  of  her  sins,  and  that  ye  receive  not  of 
her  plagues."— Bev.  xviii.  4. 


PHILADELPHIA : 

T.  B.   PBTBBSOK,    101,  GHE8TNI7T  STBBST. 


fc- 


iTisI 
wills 
perso 
U  aU 
garde 
trans 
theti 
inwh 
theS 
the  SI 

Mj 

recoi 

andl 

calm 

tain. 

with 

inCi 

give 

ofw 

perf< 

ed,  T 

■Wh( 

trea 

oftl 

nisi] 

maj 

car 

the 

tru 

T 

spe 


Preface. 


1 


It  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  reader  of  the  ensuing  narratiye 
will  not  suppose  that  it  is  a  fiction,  or  that  the  scenes  and 

gersons  that  I  have  delineated,  had  not  a  real  existence.  It 
I  also  desired,  that  the  author  of  this  volume  may  be  re- 
garded not  as  a  voluntary  {tarticipator  in  the  verysuilty 
transactions  which  are  described ;  out  receive  sympathy  for 
the  trials  which  she  has  endured,  and  the  peculiar  situation 
in  which  her  past  experience,  and  escape  from  the  power  of 
the  Superior  of  the  Hotel  Dicu  Nunnery,  at  Montreal,  and 
the  snares  of  the  Roman  Priests  in  Canada,  have  left  her.  " 
My  feelings  are  frequently  distressed  and  agitated  by  the 
recollection  of  what  I  have  passed  through ;  and  by  night 
and  by  day  I  have  little  peace  of  mind,  and  few  periods  of 
calm  and  pleasing  reflection.  Futurity  also  ippears  uncer- 
tain. I  know  not  what  reception  this  little  work  may  meet 
with,  and  what  will  be  the  effect  of  its  publication  here  or 
in  Canada,  among  strangers,  friends,  or  enemies.  I  have 
given  the  world  the  truth,  so  far  as  I  have  gone,  on  sul^euts 
of  which  I  am  told  they  are  generally  ignorant;  and  1  feel 
perfect  confidence,  that  any  facts  which  may  yet  be  discover- 
ed, will  confirm  my  words  whenever  they  can  be  obtained. 
Whoever  Rhall  explore  the  Hotel  Dicu  Nunnery  at  Mon- 
treal, will  find  unquestionable  evidence  that  the  descriptions 
of  the  interior  of  that  edifice,  given  in  this  book,  were  fur- 
nished by  one  familiar  with  them ;  for  whatever  alterations 
may  be  attempted,  there  are  changes  which  no  mason  or 
carpenter  can  make  and  effectually  conceal ;  and  therefore 
there  must  be  plentiful  evidence  in  that  Institution,  of  the 
truth  of  my  description. 

There  are  living  witnesses,  also,  who  ought  to  b«  made  to 
speak,  without  fear  of  penances,  tortures,  and  death,  and 
possibly  their  testimony  at  some  future  time,  may  be  added, 
TO  oonnrm  my  statements.      There  are  witnesses  I  should 

V 


■»  >  ■ 


!:■" 


!  ;t 


■*.*.:■,•:■: 


?" 


iife-di.; 


i 


■   '1 

m 

■'   ,' 

•n 

p;;t' 

, 

y/  .it  9 

4  ,y  i#.^ 

S I 

^i  : 

,1 

t 

■ 

■    '"  "•" 

lr?i 

¥i 


Pxefitoe. 


greatly  rejoice  to  lee  at  liberty ;  or  rather  there  wre^  Aro 
they  liying  now?  or  will  they  be  permitted  to  lire  after  the 
Priests  and  Superiors  have  Seen  this  book?  Perhaps  the 
wretched  nuns  in  the  cells  have  already  suffered  for  my  sake 
—perhaps  Jane  Kav  has  been  silenced  for  ever,  or  will  be 
murdered,  before  she  has  time  to  add  her  most  important 
testimony  to  mine. 

But  speedy  death  in  relation  only  to  this  world,  can  be  v.o 
great  calamity  to  those  wlio  lead  the  life  of  a  nun.  The  mere 
recollection  of  it  always  makes  me  miserable.  It  would  di8 
tress  the  reader,  should  I  repeat  the  dreams  with  which  I 
am  often  terrified  at  night ;  for  I  sometimes  fancy  myselt 
pursued  by  the  worst  enemirs;  frequently  I  seem  as  if  again 
shut  up  in  the  Convent ;  often  I  imagine  myself  present  at 
the  repetition  of  the  worst  scenes  that  I  have  hinted  at  or 
described.  Sometimes  I  stand  by  the  S(  ret  place  of  inter- 
ment in  the  cellar ;  sometimes  I  think  I  \n  hear  the  shriek» 
of  the  helpless  females  in  the  hands  of  atrocious  men ;  and 
sometimes  almost  seem  actually  to  look  again  upon  the 
calm  and  placid  features  of  St.  Frances,  a.^  she  appeared 
when  surrounded  by  her  murderers. 

I  cannot  banish  the  scenes  and  character  of  this  book  from 
my  memory.  To  me  it  can  never  app-ar  like  an  amusing 
fable,  or  lose  its  interest  and  importance.  The  story  is  one 
which  is  continually  before  me,  and  must  return  fresh  to  my 
mind,  with  painful  emotions,  as  long  as  I  live.  "With  tinie, 
and  Christian  instruction,  and  the  sympathy  and  examples 
of  the  wise  and  good,  I  hope  to  learn  submissively  to  bear 
whatever  trials  are  appointed  me,  and  to  improve  under 
them  all. 

Impressed  as  I  continually  am  with  the  frightful  reality 
of  the  painful  communications  that  I  have  made  in  this  vo- 
lume, I  can  only  offer  to  all  persons  who  miy  doubt  or  dig- 
believe  my  statements,  these  two  thii  js  : — 

Permit  me  to  go  throuuh  the  Hotel  Dieu  Nunneryat  Mon- 
treal, with  some  impartial  ladies  and  gentlemen,  that  thoy 
may  compare  my  account  with  the  interior  parts  of  the 
building,  into  which  no  persons  but  the  Rom  n  Bishop  and 
Priests  are  ever  admitted ;  and  if  they  do  not  find  my  de- 
scription true,  then  discard  me  as  an  impostor.  Bring  me 
before  a  court  of  justice — there  I  am  willing  to  meet  Latar- 
giie,  Dufreme^  Phelan,  Boninf  and  Jiichards,  and  their 
wicked  companions,  with  the  Superior,  and  any  of  the  nuns, 
before  a  thousand  men. 

MABIA  MONK. 
New  York,  January  11, 1836. 


,can  be  To 
.  The  mere 
would  difi 
th  which  I 
•ncy  myselt 
^  »8  if  ajtain 
f  present  at 
'ntedat  or 
teeof  iFiter- 
the  shrieks 
men;  and 
upon  tho 
®  appeared 

Is  book  from 
in  amusing 
story  is  one 
fresli  to  inv 
With  tinu', 
d  examples 
ely  to  bear 
►rove  under 

tful  reality 
!  in  thisTo- 
>ubt  or  dig- 

iryat  Mon- 
that  thoy 
•arts  of  the 
bishop  and 
od  my  de- 
Bring  me 
eet  Zatar- 
and  their 
'  the  nuns, 

OXK. 


AWFUL  DISCLOSURES 

OP 

MARIA  MONK. 


CilAPTEBI. 


EABLT  BEOOLLEOnONS. 

Early  life— B(  ligious  Education  negleoted— Flrtt  Bohoolr- 
Entrance  into  the  School  of  the  CongregationflJNaiinery 
—Brief  Account  of  the  Nanneries  in  Montreal— The 
Congregational  Nunnery— The  Black  Nunnery— The 
Qrey  Nunnery— Public  Respect  for  these  Institutions- 
Instructions  received— The  Oateohism— The  Bible. 

Mt  parents  were  both  from  Scotland,  but  had  been 
resident  in  Lower  Canada  some  time  before  their 
marriage,  which  took  place  in  Montreal,  and  in  that 
city  I  have  spent  most  of  my  life.  I  was  bom  at  St. 
John's,  where  they  lived  for  a  short  time.  My  fa- 
ther was  an  officer  under  the  British  Government, 
and  my  mother  has  enjoyed  a  pension  on  that  ac* 
count  ever  since  his  death. 

According  to  my  earliest  recollections,  he  was  at- 
tentive to  his  family,  and  had  a  peculiar  passa^i^e 
from  the  Bible,  which  often  (occurred  to  me  in  after 
life.  I  may  very  probably  have  been  taught  by 
him,  as  after  his  death  I  did  not  recollect  to  have  re- 
ceived any  instruction  at  home,  and  was  not  even 
brought  up  to  read  the  Scriptures ;  oj^y  mother,  al- 

7 


■i 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


11.25 


12.5 


:^  ufi  12.0 


M.  116 


II 


6" 


^ 


7i 


.0* 


«^ 


e 


y 


Hiotographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WfST  MAIN  STMIT 

WlftSTIII,N.Y.  USM 

(716)  172-4503 


>* 


•>*^ 

V 


V 


8 


AWFUL  DIS0LOST7BES 


ihoagh  nominally  a  Ftotestant,  not  being  acoustom- 
ed  to  pay  attention  to  her  childroD.  She  was  rather 
inclined  to  think  well  of  the  Catholics,  and  often  at- 
tended their  churches.  To  my  want  of  religious  in- 
struction at  home,  and  the  ignorance  of  my  Creator 
and  my  duty,  which  was  its  natural  effect,  I  think  I 
can  trace  my  introduction  to  convents,  and  the  scenes 
which  I  am  to  describe  in  the  following  narrative. 

When  about  six  or  seven  years  of  age,  I  went  to 
school  to  a  Mr.  Workman,  a  Protestant,  who  taught 
in  Sacrament  street,  and  remained  several  mon&s. 
There  I  learned  to  read  and  write,  and  arithmetic  as 
far  as  division.  All  the  progress  I  ever  made  in 
those  branches  was  gained  in  that  school,  as  I  have 
never  improved  in  any  of  them  since. 

A  number  of  girls  of  my  acquaintance  went  to 
school  to  the  nuns  of  the  Congregational  Nunnery, 
or  Sisters  of  Charity,  as  they  are  sometimes  called. 
T^e  schools  taught  by  them  are  perhaps  more  nu- 
merous than  some  of  my  readers  may  imagine. 
Nuns  are  sent  out  from  that  convent  to  many  of  the 
towns  and  villages  of  Canada  to  teach  small  schools ; 
and  some  of  them  are  established  as  instructresses  in 
different  parts  of  the  United  States.  When  I  was 
about  ten  years  old,  my  mother  asked  me  one  day  if 
I  should  not  like  to  learn  to  read  and  write  French, 
and  then  I  began  to  think  seriously  of  attending  the 
Bohool  in  the  Congregational  Nunnery.  I  had  al- 
ready some  acquaintance  with  that  language,  suffi- 
cient to  speak  it  a  little,  as  I  heard  it  every  day,  and 
my  mother  knew  something  of  it. 

I  have  a  distinct  recollection  of  my  first  entrance 
into  the  Nunnery ;  and  the  day  was  an  important 
one  in  my  life,  as  on  it  commenced  my  acquaintance 
with  a  convent.  I  was  conducted  by  some  of  my 
young  Mends  along  Notre  Dame  street,  till  we  reach- 
ed the  gate.  Entering  that,  we  walked  some  dis- 
tance along  the  side  of  a  building  towards  a  chapel, 
until  we  reached  a  door,  stopped,  and  rung  a  bell. 


OF  AIABIA  2I0NS. 


9 


This  was  soon  opened,  and  entering,  we  proceeded 
throQgh  a  long  covered  passage  till  we  took  a  short 
turn  to  the  left,  soon  after  which  we  reached  the  door 
of  the  school-room.  On  my  entrance,  the  Superior 
met  me,  and  told  me  first  of  all  that  I  must  dip  my 
fingers  into  the  holy  water  at  her  door,  cross  myself, 
and  say  a  short  prayer ;  and  this  she  told  me  was  al- 
ways required  of  Protestant  as  well  as  Catholic  chil- 
dren. 

There  were  about  fifty  girls  in  the  school,  and  the 
nuns  professed  to  teach  something  of  reading,  writ- 
ing, arithmetic,  and  geography.  The  methods,  how- 
ever, were  very  imperfect,  and  little  attention  was 
devoted  to  them,  the  time  being  in  a  great  degree 
engrossed  with  lessons  in  needle-work,  which  was 
performed  with  much  skill.  The  nuns  had  no  very 
regular  parts  assigned  them  in  the  management  of 
the  schools.  They  were  rather  rough  and  unpolish- 
ed in  their  manners,  often  exclaiming,  *^  O'est  un 
menti,"  (that's  a  lie,)  and  "  mon  Dieu,"  (my  God,) 
on  the  most  trivial  occasions.  Their  writing  was 
quite  poor,  and  it  was  not  uncommon  for  them  to 
put  a  capital  letter  in  the  middle  of  a  word.  The 
only  book  of  geography  which  we  studied,  was  a 
catechism  of  geography,  from  which  we  learnt  by 
heart  a  few  questions  and  answers.  We  were  some- 
times referred  to  a  map,  but  it  was  only  to  point  out 
Montreal  or  Quebec,  or  some  other  prominent  name, 
while  we  had  no  instruction  beyond. 

It  may  be  necessary,  for  the  information  of  some 
of  my  readers,  to  mention,  that  there  are  three  dis- 
tinct Convents  in  Montreal,  all  of  different  kinds— 
that  is,  founded  on  different  plans,  and  governed  by 
different  rules.    Their  names  are  as  follows : — 

1.  The  Congregational  Nunnery. 

2.  The  Black  Nunnery,  or  Convent  of  Sister  Bour- 
geoise. 

3.  The  Grey  Nunnery. 

The  first  of  these  professes  to  be  devoted  entirely 


i^-  .i,i 


'r'fif . 


10 


AWFUL  DISOLOBUBBS 


/ 


Sf-d 


m 


to  fhe  eduoation  of  girls.  It  would  require,  how- 
ever, only  a  proper  examination  to  prove,  that  with 
the  exception  of  needle- work,  hardly  anything  ig 
taught  excepting  prayer  and  catechism ;  the  instruo- 
tion  in  reading,  writing,  &o.,  in  fact,  amounting  to 
very  little,  and  often  to  nothing.  This  Convent  is 
adjacent  to  the  next  to  be  spoken  of,  being  separated 
from  it  only  by  a  wall.  The  second  professes  to  be 
a  charitable  institution  for  the  care  of  the  sick,  and 
the  supply  of  bread  and  medicines  for  the  poor ;  and 
something  is  done  in  these  departments  of  charity, 
although  but  an  insignificant  amount  compared  with 
the  size  of  the  buildings,  and  the  number  of  inmates. 

The  Grey  Nunnery,  which  is  situated  in  a  distant 
part  of  the  city,  is  also  a  large  edifice,  containing 
departments  for  the  care  of  insane  persons  and 
foundlings.  With  this,  however,  I  have  less  per- 
sonal acquaintance  than  with  either  of  the  others.  I 
have  often  seen  two  of  the  Grey  nuns,  and  know 
their  rules,  as  well  as  those  of  the  Congregational 
Nunnery;  they  do  not  confine  them  always  within 
their  walls,  like  those  of  the  Black  Nunnery.  These 
two  Convents  have  their  common  names  (Black  and 
Grey)  from  the  colours  of  the  dresses  worn  by  their 
inmates. 

In  all  these  three  Convents  there  are  certain  apart- 
ments into  which  strangers  can  gain  admittance,  but 
others  from  which  they  are  always  excluded.  In  all, 
large  quantities  of  various  omaments  are  made  by 
the  nuns,  which  are  exposed  for  sale  in  the  Oma- 
ment  RoomSf  and  afford  large  pecuniary  receipts 
every  year,  which  contribute  much  to  their  income. 
In  these  rooms,  visitors  often  purchase  such  things 
as  please  them,  from  some  of  the  old  and  confiden- 
tial nuns  who  have  the  charge  of  them. 

From  all  that  appears  to  the  public  eye,  the  nuns 
of  these  Convents  are  devoted  to  the  charitable  ob- 
ject appropriated  to  each,  the  labour  of  making  dif- 
ferent articles  known  to  be  manufactured  by  themi 


OF  MABIA  1£0N£. 


11 


and  the  religions  obseryanoeB,  whioli  occupy  a  large 
portion  of  their  time.  They  are  regarded  with  much 
reipect  by  the  people  at  large;  and  now  and  then 
when  a  novice  takes  the  yeil,  she  is  supposed  to  re- 
tire from  the  temptations  and  trouble  of  this  world 
into  a  state  of  holy  seclusion,  where,  by  prayer,  self- 
mortificalion,  and  good  deeds,  she  prepares  herself 
for  heaven.  Sometimes  the  Superior  of  a  Convent 
obtains  the  character  of  working  miracles:  and 
when  such  an  one  dies,  it  is  published  through  the 
country,  and  crowds  throng  the  Convent,  who  think 
indulgences  are  to  be  derived  from  bits  of  her  clothes 
and  other  things  she  has  possessed ;  and  many  have 
sent  articles  to  be  touched  to  her  bed  or  chair,  in 
which  a  degree  of  virtue  is  thought  to  remain.  I  used 
to  participate  in  such  ideas  and  feelings,  and  began 
by  degrees  to  look  upon  a  nun  as  the  happiest  of  wo- 
men, and  a  Convent  as  the  most  peaceful,  holy,  and 
delightful  place  of  abode.  It  is  true,  some  pains 
were  taken  to  impress  such  views  upon  me.  Some 
of  the  priests  of  the  Seminary  often  visited  the  Con« 
gregationid  Nunnery,  and  both  catechised  and  talk- 
ed with  us  on  religion.  The  Superior  of  the  Black 
Nunnery  adjoining,  also,  occasionally  came  into  the 
school,  and  enlarged  on  the  advantage  we  enjoyed 
in  having  such  teachers,  and  dropped  something  now 
and  then  relating  to  her  own  convent,  calculated  to 
make  us  entertain  the  highest  ideas  of  it,  and  make 
US  sometimes  think  of  the  possibility  of  getting  into  it. 
Among  the  instructions  given  to  us  by  the  priests, 
some  of  the  most  pointed  were  directed  against  the 
Protestant  Bible.  They  often  enlarged  upon  the 
evil  tendency  of  that  book,  and  told  us  that  but  for 
it  many  a  soul  condemned  to  hell,  and  suffering  eter- 
nal punishment,  might  have  been  in  happiness. 
They  could  not  say  anything  in  its  favour ;  lor  that 
would  be  speaking  against  religion  and  against  God. 
They  warned  us  against  its  woe,  and  represented  it 
as  a  thing  very  dangerous  to  our  souls.     In  oonfir- 


■U 


■  :■•■  ■    * 


'  :        ' 


12 


▲WVUL  BXSOLOSUBBS 


mation  of  this,  they  would  repeat  some  of  the  anil 
swers  taught  us  fit  catechism ;  a  few  of  which  I  wi|| 
here  give.    We  had  little  catechisms,  (''  Les  Petitil 
Gatechismes")  put  iuto  our  hauds  to  study ;  hut  the 
priests  soon  began  to  teach  us  a  new  set  of  answen, 
which  were  not  to  be  found  in  our  books,  from  soioe 
of  which  I  have  received  new  ideas,  and  got,  as  I 
thought,  important  light  on  religious  subjects,  which 
confirmed  me  more  in  my  belief  in  the  Boman  Ca* 
tholic  doctrines.    Those  questions  and  answers  I  c&q  | 
still  recall  with  tolerable  accuracy,  and  some  of  the 
I  will  add  here.  I  never  have  read  them,  as  we  werol 
taught  them  only  by  word  of  mouth. 

**  Question,  Forquoi  le  bon  Dieu  n'a  pas  fait  toes  I 
les  commandemens  ?" — "  Eesponse.  Parce  que  1' ' 
homme  n'est  pas  si  fort  qu'il  peut  garder  tout  m\ 
commandemens.'' 

**  Question,  Why  did  not  God  make  all  the  coi. 
mandments  ?" — **  Answer.  Because  man  is  not 
strong  enough  to  keep  them." 

And  another :  *^  Q.  Forquoi  I'homme  ne  lit  pasT 
Evaugile  ?" — "^.  Farce  que  1* esprit  de  Thommeest 
trop  borne  et  trop  f  aible  pour  comprendre  qu'est  ce 
que  Dieu  a  ecrit.** 

**  Q,  Why  are  men  not  to  read  the  New  Testa* 
ment  F" — *^  A .  Because  the  mind  of  man  is  too  limit* 
ed  and  weak  to  understand  what  God  has  written." 

These  questions  and  answers  are  not  to  be  found 
in  the  common  catechisms  in  use  in  Montreal  and 
other  places  where  I  have  been,  but  all  the  childien 
in  the  Congregational  Nunnery  were  taught  them, 
and  many  more  not  found  in  these  books. 

CHAPTER  II. 

CONOBEGATIONAL  NUNNEBT. 

Story  told  by  a  Fellow  Pupil  against  a  Priest— Other  Stories 
—Pretty  Mary— Confess  to  Father  Richards— My  subse- 
quent confession— Instructions  in  the  Catechism. 

Thbbe  was  a  girl  thirteen  years  old  whom  I  kuew 


OF  UABIA  2C0NK. 


13 


_  the  Bohool,  who  resided  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
jj  mother,  and  with  whom  I  had  been  familiar. 
She  told  me  one  day  at  school,  of  the  condnct  of  a 
priest  with  her  at  confession,  at  which  I  was  aston- 
ished. It  was  of  so  criminal  and  shameful  a  nature, 
!  could  hardly  believe  it,  and  yet  I  had  so  much  con- 
idence  that  she  spoke  the  truth,  that  I  could  not 
IcUscredit  it. 

I  She  was  partly  persuaded  by  the  priest  to  believe 
he  could  not  sin,  because  he  was  a  priest,  and  that 
anything  he  did  to  her  would  sanctify  her ;  and  yet 
she  seemed  somewhat  doubtful  how  she  should  act. 
A  priest,  she  had  been  told  by  him,  is  a  holy  man, 
and  appointed  to  a  holy  office,  and  therefore  what 
would  be  wicked  in  other  men,  could  not  be  so  in 
him.  She  told  me  she  had  informed  her  mother  of  it, 
who  expressed  no  anger  nor  disapprobation;  but 
only  enjoined  it  upon  her  not  to  speak  of  it ;  and  re- 
marked to  her,  as  priests  were  not  like  men,  but 
holy,  and  sent  to  instruct  and  save  us,  whatever  they 
did  was  right. 

I  afterwards  confessed  to  the  priest  that  I  had 
heard  the  story,  and  had  a  penance  to  perform  for 
indulging  a  smful  curiosity  in  making  inquiries; 
and  the  girl  had  another  for  communicating  it.  I 
afterwards  learnt  that  other  children  had  been  treat- 
ed in  the  same  manner,  and  also  of  similar  proceedings. 
Indeed  it  was  not  long  before  such  language  was 
used  to  me,  and  I  well  remember  how  my  views  of 
right  and  wrong  were  shaken  by  it.  Another  girl 
at  the  school,  from  a  place  above  Montreal,  called 
the  Lac,  told  me  the  following  story  of  what  had  oc- 
curred recently  in  that  vicinity.  A  young  squaw, 
called  La  Belle  Marie,  (pretty  Mary,)  had  been  seen 

Oto  confession  at  tiie  house  of  the  priest,  who 
a  little  out  of  the  village.  La  Belle  Marie  was 
afterwards  missed,  and  her  murdered  body  was 
found  in  the  river.  A  Imif e  was  also  found  bearine 
the  priest's  name.      Great  indignation  was  ezoitea 


'  il 

ill 


«4l 


if 
1 


'iil 


14 


▲WFITL  DISOLOSUBES 


among  the  Indiansi  and  the  priest  immediately  ab< 
Boonded,  and  was  never  heard  from.  A  note  waa 
found  on  his  table  addressed  to  him,  telling  him  to 
fly,  if  he  was  guilty. 

It  was  supposed  that  the  priest  was  f  earf  al  that 
his  oonduct  might  be  betrayed  by  this  young  female; 
and  he  undertook  to  clear  himself  by  killing  her. 

These  stories  struck  me  with  surprise  at  first,  but 
I  gradually  began  to  feel  differently,  even  suppodng 
them  true,  and  to  look  upon  the  priests  as  men  in- 
capable of  sin ;  besides,  when  I  first  went  to  confess, 
which  I  did  to  Father  Bichards  in  the  old  French 
church,  since  taken  down,  I  heard  nothing  impro- 
per ;  and  it  was  not  until  I  had  been  several  times 
that  the  priests  became  more  and  more  bold,  and 
were  at  length  indecent  in  their  questions,  and  even 
in  their  conduct  when  I  confessed  to  them  in  the  Sa- 
cristie.  This  subject,  I  believe,  is  not  understood 
nor  suspected  among  Protestants ;  and  it  is  not  my 
intention  to  speak  of  it  very  particularly,  because  it 
is  impossible  to  do  so  without  saying  things  botii 
shameful  and  demoralizing. 

I  will  only  say  here,  that  when  quite  a  child,  I 
heard  from  the  mouths  of  the  priests  at  confession 
what  I  cannot  repeat,  with  treatment  correspond- 
ing ;  and  several  females  in  Canada  have  assured  me 
that  they  have  repeatedlv,  and  indeed  regularly, 
been  required  to  answer  the  same  and  other  like 
questions,  many  of  which  present  to  the  mind  deeds 
which  the  most  iniquitous  and  corrupt  heart  could 
hardly  invent. 

There  was  a  frequent  change  of  teachers  in  the 
school  of  the  Nunnery^  and  no  regular  system  was 
pursued  in  our  instruction.  There  were  many  nuns 
who  came  and  went  while  I  was  there,  being  fre- 
quently called  in  and  out  without  any  perceptible 
xeaioii.  They  supply  school  teachers  to  many  of  the 
country  towns,  usuall^r  two  to  each  of  the  towns 
with  which  I  was  acquainted,  besidefiending  Sisters 


OF  MASIA  MOKE. 


15 


of  Charity  to  many  parts  of  the  United  States. 
Among  those  whom  I  saw  most  was  Saint  Patrick^ 
an  old  woman  for  a  nun,  that  is  about  f ortjy,  very  ig- 
norant and  gross  in  her  manners,  with  qmte  a  beard 
on  her  face,  and  very  cross  and  disagreeable.  She 
I  was  sometimes  onr  teacher  in  sewing,  and  was  ap» 
pointed  to  keep  order  among  us.  We  were  allowed 
to  enter  only  a  few  of  the  rooms  in  the  Oongrega- 
tional  Nunnery,  although  it  was  not  considered  one 
I  of  the  secluded  Oonvents. 

la  the  Black  Nunnery,  which  is  very  near  the  Gon- 
I  gregational,  is  an  hospital  for  sick  people  from  the 
city;  and  sometimes  some  of  our  boarders,  such  as 
were  indisposed,  were  sent  there  to  be  cured.  I  was 
once  taken  ill  myself  and  sent  there,  where  I  re- 
mained a  few  days. 

There  were  beds  enough  for  a  considerable  num- 
ber more.  A  physician  attended  it  daily,  and  there 
are  a  number  of  the  yeiled  nuns  of  that  ConTent  who 
spend  most  of  their  time  there. 

These  would  also  sometimes  read  lectures  and  re* 
peat  prayers  to  us. 

After  1  had  been  in  the  Congregational  Nunnery 
about  two  years,  I  left  it,  and  attended  several  dif- 
ferent schools  for  a  short  time.  But  I  soon  became 
dissatisfied,  having  many  and  severe  trials  to  endure 
at  home,  which  my  feelings  will  not  allow  me  to  da- 
scribe :  and  as  mv  Catholic  acquaintances  had  oiiea 
spoken  to  me  in  favour  of  their  faith,  I  was  inclined 
to  believe  it  true,  althoucrh,  as  I  before  said,  I  knew 
little  of  any  religion.  While  out  of  the  nunnery,  I 
saw  nothing  of  religion.  If  I  had,  I  believe  I  should 
never  have  thought  of  becoming  a  nun. 


t . ' 


'-..'»; 


:••'  ;■     I. 


'  S  ■  r 


'■■I 


tA 


a " ;  I 


( 


I' '  ,' 


■a'''! 


16  AVTEXTL  DZSCL0ST7IIB8 


OHAPTEBin. 

BLA.OE  NUNNEBT. 

Preparations  to  become  a  Novice  in  the  Black  Nunnery- 
Entrance— Occupations  of  the  NoTloes— The  apartments 
to  which  they  had  access— First  interview  with  Jane 
tty— Reverence  for  the  Superior — ^A  wonderful  "Svm-^ 
[er  reliques— The  Holy  Good  Shepherd,  or  Nameless 
un—Confession  of  Novices. 

At  length  I  determined  to  become  a  Black  Nun,  and 
called  upon  one  of  the  oldest  priests  in  the  Seminary, 
to  whom  I  made  known  my  intention. 

The  old  priest  to  whom  I  applied  was  Father 
Bocque,  He  is  still  alive.  He  was  at  that  time  the 
oldest  priest  in  the  seminary,  and  carried  the  Bon 
Dieu,  Good  Otod,  as  the  sacramental  wafer  is  called. 
When  goin^  to  administer  it  in  any  country  place, 
he  used  to  ride  with  a  man  before  him,  who  rang  a 
bell  as  a  signal.  When  the  Canadians  heard  it, 
whose  habitations  he  passed,  they  would  come  and 
prostrate  themselves  to  the  earth,  worshipping  it  as 
a  God.  He  was  a  man  of  great  age,  and  wore  large 
curls,  80  that  he  somewhat  resembled  his  predeces- 
sor,  Father  Boue.  He  was  at  that  time  at  the  head 
of  the  Seminary.  This  Institution  is  a  large  edifice, 
situated  near  the  Congregational  and  Black  Nunner- 
ies, being  on  the  east  side  of  Notre  Dame  Street.  It 
is  the  general  rendezvous  and  centre  of  all  the  priests 
in  the  district  of  Montreal,  and  I  have  been  told, 
supplies  all  the  country  as  far  down  as  the  Three 
Bivers,  which  place,  I  believe,  is  under  the  charge 
of  the  Seminary  of  Quebec.  About  one  hundred  and 
fifty  priests  are  connected  with  that  at  Montreal,  as 
every  small  place  has  one  priest,  and  a  number  of 
larger  ones  nave  two. 

Father  Bocque  promised  to  converse  with  the  Sa* 
perior  of  the  Convent,  and  proposed  my  calling  again 
at  the  end  of  two  weeks,  at  which  time  I  visited  the 
Seminary  again,  and  was  introduced  by  him  to  the 


OF  lEABU  ICOmL 


17 


Superior  of  the  Black  Nunnery.  She  told  me  she 
must  make  some  inquiries,  before  she  could  give  me 
a  decided  answer,  and  proposed  to  me  to  take  up  my 
abode  a  few  days  at  the  house  of  a  French  f amiljr  in 
St.  Lawrence  suburbs,  a  distant  part  of  the  city. 
Here  I  remained  about  a  fortnight ;  during  which 
time  I  formed  some  acq[uaintance  with  the  family, 
particularly  with  the  mistress  of  the  house,  who  was 
a  devoted  Papist,  and  had  a  high  respect  for  the  Su- 
perior, with  whom  she  stood  on  good  terms. 

At  length,  on  Saturday  morning  about  ten  o'clock, 
I  called,  and  was  admitted  into  the  Black  Nunnery 
as  a  novice,  much  to  my  satisfaction,  for  I  had  a 
high  idea  of  life  in  a  Convent,  secluded,  as  I  sup- 
posed the  inmates  to  be,  from  the  world  and  all  its 
evil  influences,  and  assured  of  everlasting  happiness 
in  heaven.  The  Superior  received  me,  and  conduct- 
ed me  into  a  large  room,  where  the  novices,  who  are 
called  in  French,  Postulantes,  were  assembled,  and 
engaged  in  their  customary  occupation  of  sewing. 

Here  were  about  forty  of  them,  and  they  were  col- 
lected in  groups  in  different  parts  of  the  room,  chief*^ 
ly  near  the  windows ;  but  in  each  group  was  found 
one  of  the  veiled  nuns  of  the  convent,  whose  abode 
was  in  the  interior  apartments,  to  which  no  novice 
was  to  be  admitted.  As  we  entered,  the  Superior  in- 
formed the  assembly  that  a  new  novice  had  come, 
and  she  desired  any  one  present  who  might  have 
known  me  in  the  world  to  signify  it. 

Two  Miss  Feugnees,  and  a  Miss  Howard  from  Ver- 
mont, who  had  been  m^  fellow-pupils  in  the  Oon- 
rregational  Nunnery,  immediately  recognized  me. 
I  was  then  placed  in  one  of  the  groups  at  a  distance 
from  them,^  and  furnished  by  a  nun,  called  Sainte 
Clotilde,  with  materials  to  make  a  purse,  such  as 
priests  use  to  carry  the  consecrated  wafer  in,  when 
they  go  to  administer  the  sacrament  to  the  sick.  I 
well  remember  my  feelings  at  that  time,  sitting 
among  a  number  of  strangers,  and  expecting  with 
174  N 


18 


AWFUL  DISOLOSUBBS 


painfol  anxiety  the  arrival  of  the  dinner-hour. 
Then,  as  I  knew,  ceremonies  were  to  he  performed, 
though  for  which  I  was  hut  ill  prepared,  as  I  had 
not  yet  heard  the  rules  hy  which  I  was  to  he  go- 
▼emed,  and  knew  nothing  of  the  forms  to  he  repeat- 
ed in  the  daily  exercises,  except  the  creed  in  Latin, 
and  that  imperfectly.  This  was  during  the  time 
of  recreation,  as  it  is  called.  The  only  recreation 
there  allowed,  however,  is  that  of  the  mind,  aod  of 
this  there  is  hut  little.  We  were  kept  at  work,  and 
permitted  to  speak  with  each  other  only  in  hearing 
of  the  old  nuns  who  sat  hy  us.  We  proceeded  to  din- 
ner in  couples,  and  ate  in  silence  while  a  lecture  was 
read. 

The  novices  had  access  to  only  eight  of  the  apart- 
ments of  the  Oonvent ;  and  whatever  else  we  wished 
to  know,  we  could  only  conjecture.  The  sleeping 
room  was  in  the  second  story,  at  the  end  of  the  wes- 
tern wing.  The  heds  were  placed  in  rows,  without 
curtains  or  any  thing  else  to  obstruct  the  view ;  and 
in  one  comer  was  a  small  room  partitioned  off,  in 
which  was  the  bed  of  a  night-watch,  that  is,  the  old 
nun  who  was  appointed  to  oversee  us  for  the  night. 
In  each  side  of  the  partition  were  two  holes,  through 
which  she  could  look  out  upon  us  whenever  £e 
pleased.  Her  bed  was  a  little  raised  above  the  level 
of  the  others.  There  was  a  lamp  hung  in  the  mid- 
dle of  our  chamber,  which  showed  everything  to  her 
very  distinctly;  and  as  she  had  no  light  in  her  little 
room,  we  never  could  perceive  whether  she  was 
awake  or  asleep.  As  we  knew  that  the  slightest  de- 
viation from  the  rules  would  expose  us  to  her  obser- 
vation as  well  as  to  that  of  our  companions,  in  whom 
it  was  a  virtue  to  betray  one  another's  faults,  con- 
tinual exposure  to  suffer  what  I  disliked,  and  had  my 
mind  occupied  in  thinking  of  what  I  was  to  do  aezt, 
and  what  I  must  avoid.  Though  I  soon  learned  the 
roles  and  ceremonies  we  had  to  pass,  which  were 
many,  and  we  had  to  be  very  particular  in  t^eir  ob- 


ov  lUBU  Komc 


U 


i    I 


servance,  we  were  employed  iu  di£ferent  kinds  of 
work  while  I  was  a  novice.  The  most  beautiful 
specimen  of  the  nun's  manufacture  which  I  saw, 
was  a  rich  carpet  made  of  fine  worsted,  which  had 
been  begun  before  my  acquaintance  with  the  Oon- 
yent,  aud  was  finished  while  I  was  there.  This  was 
sent  as  a  present  to  the  Eliug  of  England,  as  an  ex- 
pression of  gratitude  for  the  money  annually  re- 
ceiyed  from  the  goyemment.  It  was  about  forty 
yards  iu  length,  and  yery  handsome.  We  were  ig- 
norant of  the  amount  of  4noney  thus  receiyed.  The 
Gonyent  of  the  Grey  Nuns  has  also  receiyed  funds 
from  the  goyemment,  though  on  some  account  or 
other,  had  not  for  several  years. 

I  was  sitting  by  a  window  at  one  time  with  a  girl 
named  Jane  M'Coy,  when  one  of  the  old  nuns  came 
up  and  spoke  to  us  in  a  tone  of  liveliness  and  kind- 
ness, which  seemed  strange  in  a  place  where  every 
thing  appeared  so  cold  and  reserved.  Some  remarlu 
whion  she  made  were  evidently  intended  to  cheer 
and  encourage  me,  and  made  me  think  that  she  felt 
some  interest  in  me.  I  do  not  recollect  what  she 
said,  but  I  remember  it  gave  me  pleasure.  I  also 
remember  that  her  manners  struck  me  singularlv. 
She  was  rather  old  for  a  nun— that  is,  probably 
thirty ;  her  figure  large,  her  face  wrinkled,  and  her 
dress  careless.  She  seemed  also  to  be  under  less  re- 
straint than  the  others,  and  this  I  afterwards  found 
was  the  case.  She  sometimes  even  set  the  rules  at 
defiance.  She  would  speak  aloud  when  silence  was 
required,  and  sometimes  walk  about  when  she  ought 
to  have  kept  her  place  :  she  would  even  say  and  do 
things  on  purpose  to  make  us  laugh,  and,  although 
often  blamed  for  her  conduct,  had  her  .offences  fre- 
quently passed  over,  when  others  would  have  been 
punished  with  penances. 

I  learnt  that  this  woman  had  always  been  singa* 
lar.  She  never  would  consent  to  take  a  saint's  name 
on  receiving  the  veil,  and  had  always  been  known  by 


'    ! 


20 


XWFUL  DISOLOSUBSS 


ft"! 


mi 


her  own,  which  was  Jane  Bay.  Her  irregularities 
were  found  to  be  numerous,  and  penances  were  of 
so  little  use  in  governing  her,  that  she  was  pitied 
by  some,  who  thought  her  partially  insane.  She 
was,  therefore,  commonly  spoken  of  as  mad  Jane 
Bay  ;  and  when  she  committed  a  fault,  it  was  apo- 
logized for  by  the  Superior  or  other  nuns,  on  the 
ground  that  she  did  not  know  what  she  did. 

The  occupations  of  a  novice  in  the  Black  Nunnery 
are  not  such  as  some  of  our  readers  may  suppose. 
They  are  not  employed  in  studying  the  higher 
branches  of  education :  they  are  not  offered  any  ad- 
vantages for  storing  their  minds,  or  polishing  their 
manners ;  they  are  not  taught  even  reading,  writing, 
or  arithmetic ;  much  less  any  of  the  more  advanced 
branches  of  knowledge.  My  time  was  chiefly  em- 
ployed, at  first,  in  work  and  prayers.  It  is  true, 
during  the  last  year  I  studied  a  great  deal,  and  was 
required  to  work  but  verv  little ;  but  it  was  the  study 
of  prayers  in  French  ana  Latin,  which  I  had  merely 
to  commit  to  memory,  to  prepare  for  the  easy  repe- 
tition of  them  on  my  reception,  and  after  I  should  be 
admitted  as  a  nun. 

Among  the  wonderful  events  which  had  happen- 
ed, in  the  Oonvent,  that  of  the  sudden  conversion  of 
a  gay  young  lady  of  the  city  into  a  nun  appeared  to 
me  one  of  the  most  remarkable.  The  story  which  I 
first  heard  while  a  novice,  made  a  deep  impression 
upon  my  mind.    It  was  nearly  as  follows : 

The  daughter  of  a  wealthy  citizen  of  Montreal  was 

gassing  the  church  of  Bon  Secours  one  evening,  on 
er  way  to  a  ball,  when  she  was  suddenly  thrown 
down  upon  the  steps  or  near  the  door,  and  received 
a  severe  shock.  She  was  taken  up,  and  removed 
first,  I  think,  into  the  church,  but  soon  into  the 
Black  Nunnery,  which  she  determined  to  join  as  a 
nun ;  instead,  nowever,  of  being  required  to  pass 
through  a  long  novitiate,  (which  uaoally  oooupiei 
about  two  years  and  a  half,  and  it  abiidged  only 


OF  aCABIA  2I0HK. 


21 


where  the  character  is  peculiarly  exemplary  and  de- 
vout,) she  was  permitted  to  take  the  veil  without  de« 
lay,  being  declared  bj  God  to  a  priest  to  be  in  a 
state  of  sanctity.  The  meaning  of  this  expression 
is,  that  she  was  a  real  saint,  and  already  in  a  great 
measure  raised  above  the  world  and  its  influences, 
and  incapable  of  sinning ;  possessing  the  power  of 
intercession,  and  a  proper  object  to  be  addressed  in 
prayer.  This  remarkable  individual,  I  was  further 
informed,  was  still  in  the  Convent,  though  I  never 
was  allowed  to  see  her  ;  she  did  not  mingle  with  the 
other  nuns,  either  at  work,  worship  or  meals ;  for 
she  had  no  need  of  food,  and  not  only  her  soul,  but 
her  body,  was  in  heaven  a  great  part  of  her  time. 
What  added,  if  possible,  to  the  reverence  and  myste- 
rious awe  with  which  I  thought  of  her,  was  the  fact 
I  learned,  that  she  had  no  name.  The  titles  used  in 
speaking  of  her  were,  the  holy  saint,  reverend  mo« 
tber,  or  saint  bon  pasteur,  (the  holy  good  shepherd.) 
It  is  wonderful  that  we  could  have  earned  our 
reverence  for  the  Superior  so  far  as  we  did,  although 
it  was  the  direct  tendency  of  many  instructions  and 
reflations,  indeed  of  the  whole  system,  to  permit, 
even  to  foster,  a  superstitious  regard  for  her.  One 
of  us  was  occasionally  called  into  her  room  to  cut 
her  nails,  or  dress  her  hair ;  and  we  would  often  col- 
lect the  clippings,  and  distribute  them  to  each  other, 
or  preserve  them  with  the  utmost  care.  I  once  pick- 
ed up  all  her  stray  hairs  I  could  find  after  combing 
her  head,  bound  them  together,  and  kept  them  for 
some  time,  until  she  told  me  I  was  not  worthy  to 
possess  things  so  sacred.  Jane  M'Goy  and  I  were 
once  sent  to  alter  a  dress  for  the  Superior.  I  gather- 
ed up  all  the  bits  of  thread,  made  a  little  bag,  and 
put  them  into  it  for  safe  preservation.  This  I  wore 
a  long  time  round  my  neck,  so  long,  indeed,  that  I 
wore  out  a  number  of  strings,  which  I  remember  I 
had  replaced  with  new  ones.  I  believed  it  to  poR- 
sess  the  power  of  removiug  pain,  and  have  oxteu 


I     !. 


■   H 


'■■;■  Hi; 


22 


kWfUL  SISOLOSTJBES 


fe^ 


prayed  to  it  to  cure  the  tooth-ache,  &o.  Jane  Bay 
sometimes  professed  to  outdo  us  all  in  devotion  to 
the  Superior,  and  would  pick  up  the  feathers  after 
making  her  bed.  These  she  would  distribute  among 
us,  saying,  "  When  the  Superior  dies,  relics  will  be- 
gin to  grow  scarce,  and  you  had  better  supply  your- 
selves in  season."  Then  she  would  treat  the  whole 
matter  in  some  way  to  turn  it  into  ridicule.  Equally 
contradictory  would  she  appear,  when  occasionally 
she  would  obtain  leave  from  her  Superior  to  tell  her 
dreams.  With  a  serious  face,  which  sometimes  im- 
posed upon  all  of  us,  and  made  us  half  believe  she 
was  in  a  perfect  state  of  sanctity^  she  would  narrate 
in  French  some  unaccountable  vision  which  she  said 
she  had  enjoyed ;  then  turning  round,  would  say, 
<<  There  are  some  who  do  not  understand  me ;  you 
all  ought  to  be  informed."  And  then  she  would  say 
some&ing  totally  different  in  English,  which  put  us 
to  the  greatest  agony  for  fear  of  laughing.  Some- 
times Sie  would  say  she  expected  to  oe  Superior  her- 
self one  of  those  days,  and  other  things  which  I  have 
not  room  to  repeat. 

While  I  was  in  the  Congregational  Nunnery,  I 
had  gone  to  the  parish  church  whenever  I  was  to 
confess,  for  although  the  nuns  had  a  private  coufes- 
sion-room  in  the  building,  the  boarders  were  taken 
in  parties  through  the  streets,  on  different  days,  by 
some  of  the  nuns,  to  confess  in  the  church ;  but  in 
the  Black  Nunnery,  as  we  had  a  chapel,  and  priests 
attending  in  the  confessionals,  we  never  left  the 
building. 

Our^onfessions  there  as  novices  were  always  per- 
formed in  one  way,  so  that  it  may  be  sufficient  to 
describe  a  single  case.  Those  of  us  who  were  to  con- 
fess at  a  particular  time,  took  our  places  on  our 
knees  near  the  confession-box,  and,  after  having  re- 
))eated  a  number  of  prayers,  &c.,  prescribed  in  our 
book,  came  up  one  at  a  time  and  kneeled  beside  a 
^ne  wooden  lattioe-work,  which  entirely  separated 


OV  UAJBJJL  UONZ. 


23 


Jane  Bay 
Jevotion  to 
•there  after 
►ute  amoDff 
tics  will  be. 
(PPh  your. 
It  the  whole 
fe.  Equally 
Iccasionally 
P  to  tell  her 
jietinaes  im- 
Ibelieve  she 
fid  narrate 
ich  she  said 
would  say, 
ime;  you 
would  say 
lich  put  us 
g»    Some- 
periorher- 
lichlhaye 

Gunnery,  I 
it  I  was  to 
ite  coufes- 
E^ere  taken 
days,  by 
h;  butiu 
id  priests 
r  left  the 

ways  per- 
fficieut  to 
ce  to  con- 
9  on  our 
iving  re- 
id  in  our 
beside  a 
Bparated 


the  oonf 6B8or  from  us,  yet  permitted  us  to  place  our 
faoei  almost  to  his  ear^  and  nearly  oonoealed  his 
ooontenance  from  our  view,  even  when  so  near.  I 
reooUect  how  the  priests  used  to  reoline  their  heads 
on  one  side,  and  often  covered  their  faces  with  their 
handkerchiefs,  while  they  heard  me  confess  my  sins, 
and  put  questions  to  me,  which  were  often  of  the 
most  improper  and  revolting  nature,  naming  crimes 
both  unthought  of  and  inhuman.  Still,  strange  as 
it  may  seem,  I  was  persuaded  to  believe  that  all  this 
was  their  duty,  or  at  least  that  it  was  done  without 
sin. 

Veiled  nuns  would  often  appear  in  the  chapel  at 
confession;  though,  as  I  understood,  they  generally 
confessed  in  private.  Of  the  plan  of  their  confession- 
rooms  I  had  no  information ;  but  I  supposed  the 
ceremony  to  be  conducted  much  on  the  same  plan 
as  in  the  chapel  and  in  the  church,  viz.,  with  a  lattice 
interposed  between  the  confessor  and  the  confessing. 

Punishments  were  sometimes  resorted  to  while  I 
was  a  novice,  though  but  seldom.  The  first  time  I 
ever  saw  a  gag,  was  one  day  when  a  young  novice 
had  done  something  to  offend  the  Superior.  This 
girl  I  always  had  compassion  for,  because  she  was 
very  young,  and  an  orphan.  The  Superior  sent  for 
a  gag,  and  expressed  her  regret  at  bemg  compelled, 
by  the  bad  conduct  of  the  child,  to  proceed  to  such 
a  punishment ;  after  which  she  put  it  into  her  moutii, 
so  far  as  to  keep  it  open,  and  then  let  it  remain  for 
some  time  before  she  took  it  out.  There  was  a  lea* 
them  strap  fastened  to  each  end,  and  buckled  to  the 
back  part  of  the  head. 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Displeased  with  the  Convent— Left  it— Residence  at  St.  De- 
nis—Relics— Marriage— Return  to  the  Black  Nunnery 
—Objections  made  by  some  Novices. 

AvTBB  I  had  been  a  novice  four  or  five  years,  that 
is  from  the  time  I  commenced  school  in  the  Con- 


:■!       ■  I 


:i..'i 


'■i 


24 


AWFUL  DXSOLOST7BE3 


U:;  !•  ,  ,!'■ 


m.i(y 


mm 


iiii 


vent,  one  day  I  was  treated  by  one  of  the  nuns  in  a 
manner  which  displeased  me,  and  because  I  ex- 
pressed some  resentment,  I  was  required  to  beg  her 
pardon.  Not  being  satisfied  with  this,  although  I 
complied  with  the  commatic',  nor  with  the  coldness 
with  which  the  Superior  treated  me,  I  determined 
to  quit  the  Convent  at  once,  which  I  did  without 
asking  leave.  There  would  have  been  no  obstacle  to 
my  departure,  I  presume,  novice  as  I  then  was,  if 
I  had  asked  permission ;  but  I  was  too  much  dis* 
pleased  to  wait  for  that,  and  went  home  without 
speaking  to  any  one  on  the  subject. 

I  soon  after  visited  the  town  of  St.  Denis,  where 
I  saw  two  young  ladies  with  whom  I  had  formerly 
been  acquainted  in  Montreal,  and  one  of  them  a  for- 
mer school-mate  at  Mr.  Workman's  School.  After 
some  conversation  with  me,  and  learning  that  I  had 
known  a  lady  who  kept  a  school  in  the  place,  they 
advised  me  to  apply  to  her  to  be  employed  as  her  as- 
sistant teacher ;  for  she  was  then  instructing  the  go- 
vernment school  in  that  place. 

I  visited  her,  and  found  her  willing,  and  I  engag- 
ed at  once  as  her  assistant. 

The  government  society  paid  her  £20  a  year ;  she 
was  obliged  to  teach  ten  children  gratuitously ;  might 
have  fifteen  pence  a  month,  about  a  quarter  oi(  a 
dollar,  for  each  ten  scholars  more,  and  then  she  was 
at  liberty,  according  to  the  regulations,  to  demand 
as  much  as  she  pleased  for  the  other  pupils.  The 
course  of  instruction  as  required  by  the  society,  em- 
braced only  reading,  writing,  and  what  was  called 
ciphering,  though  I  think  improperly.  The  only 
books  u^  were  a  spelling,  1'  Instruction  de  la  Jeu- 
nesse,  the  Oatholic  New  Testament^  and  V  Histoire 
de  Canada.  When  these  had  been  read  through,  in 
regular  succession,  the  children  were  dismissed  as 
having  completed  their  education.  No  difficulty  is 
found  in  making  the  common  French  Canadians  con- 
tent with  such  an  amount  of  instruction  as  this ;  oa 


OF  SCABIA  3C0KS. 


25 


the  contrary,  it  is  often  f oupd  very  hard  indeed  to 
prevail  upon  them  to  send  their  children  at  all,  for 
they  say  it  takes  too  much  of  the  love  of  God  from 
them  to  send  them  to  school.  The  teacher  strictly 
complied  with  the  requisitions  of  the  society  in  whose 
employment  she  was,  and  the  Boman  Catholic  cate- 
chism was  regularly  taught  in  the  school,  as  much 
from  choice,  as  from  submission  to  authority,  as  she 
was  a  strict  Gathdlic.  I  had  brought  with  me  the 
little  bag  before  mentioned,  in  which  I  had  so  long 
kept  the  clippings  of  the  thread  left  after  making  a 
dress  for  the  Superior.  Such  was  my  regard  for  it, 
that  I  continued  to  wear  it  constantly  round  my 
neck,  and  to  feel  the  same  reverence  for  its  suppos* 
ed  virtues  as  before.  I  occasionally  had  the  tooth, 
ache  during  my  stay  at  St.  Denis,  and  then  always 
relied  on  the  influence  of  my  little  bag.  On  such 
occasions  I  would  say — "  By  the  virtue  of  this  bag 
may  I  be  delivered  from  the  tooth-ache !"  and  I  sup- 
posed that  when  it  ceased  it  was  owing  to  that  cause. 
While  engaged  in  this  manner,  I  became  acquaint- 
ed  with  a  man  who  soon  proposed  macrriage ;  and, 
young  and  ignorant  of  the  world  as  I  was,  I  heard 
his  offers  with  favour.  On  consulting  with  my 
friend,  she  expressed  a  friendly  interest  to  me,  ad- 
vised me  against  taking  such  a  step,  and  especially 
as  I  knew  so  little  about  the  man,  except  that  a  re- 
port was  circulated  unfavourable  to  his  character. 
Unfortunately,  I  was  not  wise  enough  to  listen  to  her 
advice,  and  hastily  married.  In  a  few  weeks  I  had 
occasion  to  repent  of  the  step  I  had  taken,  as  the  re- 
port proved  true— a  report  which  I  thought  justified, 
and  indeed  required,  our  separation.  After  I  had 
been  in  St.  Denis  about  three  months,  finding  myself 
thus  situated,  and  not  knowing  what  else  to  do,  I 
determined  to  return  to  the  Convent,  and  pursue  my 
former  intention  of  becoming  a  Black  Nun,  could  I 
gain  admittance.  Knowing  the  many  inquiries  the 
Superior  would  make  relative  to  me  during  my  ab- 


S        I 


r- 


1 


t-v 


■;It»;- 


•It 


.'■'<     1 

f.      ■ 


1 1  1' 


1:^1 


i:li! 


I 


li 


#§fe?-- 


^Hii 


,r' 


tip 

ipiiilil. 
1 


26 


▲W7T7L  DISCLOSI7BB9 


BODoe,  before  leaving  St.  Denis  I  agreed  with  the 
lady  with  whom  I  had  been  asaooiated  as  a  teacher, 
(when  she  went  to  Montreal,  which  she  did  very  fie.  I 
quently )  to  say  to  the  Lady  Superior  I  had  been  un« 
der  her  protection  during  my  absence,  which  would 
satisfy  and  stop  further  inquiry ;  as  I  was  sensible, 
should  they  know  I  had  been  married  I  should  not 
gain  admittance. 

I  soon  left  and  returned  to  Montreal,  and,  on 
reaching  the  city,  I  visited  the  Semiuary,  and  ia 
another  interview  with  the  Superior  of  it,  comma* 
nioated  my  wish,  and  desired  her  to  procure  my  ie« 
admission  as  a  novice.    Little  delay  occurred. 

After  leaving  for  a  short  time,  she  returned  and 
told  me  that  the  Superior  of  the  Convent  had  con- 
sented, and  I  was  soon  introduced  into  her  presence. 

She  blamed  me  for  my  conduct  in  leavingthe  nuo* 
nery,  but  told  me  that  I  ought  to  be  ever  grateful  to 
my  guardian  angel  for  taking  care  of  me,  unless  pro* 
hibited  by  the  Superior-;  and  this  she  promised  me. 
The  money  usually  required  for  the  admission  of 
novices  had  not  been  expected  from  me.  I  had  heen 
admitted  the  first  time  without  any  such  requisition; 
but  now  I  chose  to  pay  for  my  re-admission.  I  knew 
that  she  was  able  to  dispense  with  such  a  demand  ai 
well  in  this  as  in  the  former  case,  and  she  knew  that 
I  was  not  in  possession  of  any  thing  like  the  sum  re- 
quired. 

But  I  was  bent  on  paying  to  the  Nunnery,  and 
accustomed  to  receive  the  doctrine  often  repeated  to 
me  before  that  time,  that  when  the  advantage  of  the 
ohurch  was  consulted,  the  steps  taken  were  justifi- 
able, let  them  be  what  they  would ;  I  therefore  resolv- 
ed to  obtain  money  on  false  pretences,  confident  that 
if  all  were  known,  I  should  be  far  from  displeasing 
the  Superior.  I  went  to  the  brigade*major,  and 
asked  him  to  give  me  the  money  payable  to  my  mo- 
ther from  her  pension,  which  amounted  to  about 
thirty  dollars,  and  without  questioning  my  authority 
to  receive  it  in  her  name,  he  gave  it  me. 


OF  SCABIA  llOTSrZ. 


27 


From  several  of  their  friends  I  obtained  small 
^oms  under  the  name  of  loans,  so  that  altogether  I 
lad  soon  raised  a  number  of  pounds,  with  which  I 

istened  to  the  Nunnery,  and  deposited  a  part  in  the 
_inds  of  the  Superior.  She  receiyed  the  money  with 
mdent  satisfaction,  though  she  must  have  known 
hat  I  could  not  haveobtamed  it  honestly;  and  I 
ras  at  once  re-admitted  as  a  novice. 

Much  to  mv  gratification,  not  a  word  fell  from  the 
ips  of  any  of  my  old  associates  in  relation  to  my 
inceremonious  departure,  nor  my  voluntary  return, 
^lie  Superior's  orders,  I  had  not  a  doubt,  had  been 

[plicitly  laid  down,  and  they  certainly  were  caro- 

jly  obeyed,  for  t  never  heard  an  allusion  made  to 

lat  subject  during  my  subsequent  stay  in  the  Con- 
bent,  except  that,  when  alone,  the  Superior  would 
Isometimes  say  a  little  about  it. 

There  were  numbers  of  young  ladies  who  entered 
lawhile  as  novices,  and  became  weary  or  disgusted 
Iwith  some  things  they  observed,  and  remained  but 
la  short  time.  One  of  my  cousins,  who  lived  at  La- 
ohine,  named  Beed,  spent  about  a  fortnight  in  the 
Convent  with  me.  She  however,  conceived  such  an 
antipathy  to  the  priests,  that  shie  used  expressions 
[which  offended  the  Superior. 

The  first  day  that  she  attended  mass,  while  at  din- 
Iner  with  us  in  full  community,  she  said  before  us 
all, "  What  a  rascal  that  priest  was,  to  preach  against 
I  his  best  friend  1" 

All  stared  at  such  an  unusual  exclamation,  and 
I  some  one  enquired  what  she  meant. 

^  I  say,"  she  continued,  '*  he  has  been  preaching 
I  against  him  who  has  given  him  his  bread.  Do  you 
I  suppose  that  if  there  were  no  devil,  there  would  be 
airy  priests  P' 

This  bold  young  novice  was  immediately  dismiss- 
ed,  and  in  the  afternoon  we  had  a  long  sermon  from 
the  Superior  on  the  subject. 

It  happened  that  I  one  day  got  a  leaf  of  an  Eng* 


I' .? 


28 


kVrVXJL  DISOLOSUBBS 


Il 


aliji 


lisli  Bible  which  had  been  brought  into  the  Conveui 
wrapped  arouud  some  sewing  Bilk,  purchased  at  i 
store  u  the  city.  For  some  reason  or  other,  Ide. 
termined  to  commit  to  memory  a  chapter  it  contain. 
ed,  which  I  soon  did.  It  is  the  only  chapter  I  ever 
learnt  in  the  Bible,  and  I  can  now  repeat  it.  Itji 
the  second  of  St.  Matthew's  gospel.  **  Now  when 
Jesus  was  born  at  Bethlehem  in  Judea/'  &c.  It  hap. 
penedthat  I  was  observed  reading  the  paper,  and 
when  the  nature  of  it  was  discovered.  I  was  oon^  I 
demned  to  do  peuance  for  my  offence. 

Great  dislike  to  the  Bible  was  shown  by  those  who 
conversed  with  me  about  it,  and  several  have  re. 
marked  at  me  at  different  times,  that  if  it  were  not 
for  that  book,  Catholics  would  never  be  led  to  le- 
uounce  their  own  faith. 

I  have  heard  passages  read  from  the  Evangile,i8* 
lating  to  the  death  of  Christ ;  the  conversion  of  Paul; 
a  few  chapters  from  St.  Matthew,  and  perhaps  a  few 
others.  The  priests  would  also  sometimes  take  avena 
or  two,  and  preach  from  it.  I  have  read  St.  Peter's 
life,  but  onlv  on  the  book  called  the  '*  Lives  of  the 
Saints."  He,  I  understood,  has  the  keys  of  heaven 
and  hell,  and  has  founded  our  church.  As  for  Saint 
Paul,  I  remember,  as  I  was  taught  to  understand  il^ 
that  he  was  once  a  great  persecutor  of  the  Koman 
Catholics,  until  he  became  convicted,  and  confessed 
to  one  of  the  father  confessors^  I  don't  know  which. 
For  who  can  expect  to  be  forgiven,  who  does  not  be- 
come a  Catholic,  and  confess? 

CHAPTER  V. 

Received  Confirmation — Painful  Feelings^Specimens  of 
Instructions  received  on  the  Subject. 

The  day  on  which  I  received  Confirmation  was  a 
distressing  one  to  me.  I  believed  the  doctrine  of  the 
Boman  Catholics,  and  according  to  them  Iwasguil- 
ty  of  three  mortal  sins ;  concealing  something  at 
confeBdoDi  sacrilege,  in  patting  the  body  of  Christ 


OF  3CABZA  MOXnC 


( 


2d 


[a  thesaorament  atmy  feet,  and  by  reoeivingit  while 
jot  in  a  state  of  grace  1  and  now  I  had  been  led  iuto 
ill  those  sins  in  conBequence  of  my  marriage,  which 
I  never  had  acknowledged,  as  it  woald  have  cut  me 
)ff  from  being  admitted  as  a  nnn. 

On  the  day,  therefore,  when  I  went  to  the  church 
|to  be  confirmed  with  a  number  of  others,  I  suffered 
lextremely  from  the  reproaches  of  my  conscience.  I 
■knew,  at  least  I  believed,  as  I  had  been  told,  that  a 
Ipersoa  who  had  been  anointed  with  the  holy  oil  of 
Iconfirmation  on  the  forehead,  and  dying  in  the  state 
lin  which  I  was,  would  go  down  to  hell,  and,  in  the 
Iplace  where  the  oil  had  been  rubbed,  the  names  of 
my  sins  would  blaze  out  of  my  forehead;  these 
would  he  a  sign  by  which  the  devils  would  know  me, 
and  would  torment  me  the  worse  for  them.  I  was 
thinking  of  all  this,  while  I  was  sitting  in  the  pew, 
waiting  to  receive  the  oil.  I  felt  however  eome  con- 
solation, as  I  of  ten  did  afterwards,  when  my  sins 
came  to  my  miud :  and  this  consolation  I  derived 
I  from  another  doctrine  of  the  church,  viz.,  that  abis« 
I  hop  could  absolve  me  from  all  these  sins  any  minute 
heiore  my  death  ;  and  I  intended  to  confess  them  all 
to  a  bishop  before  leaving  the  world.  At  length  the 
moment  for  administering  of  the  '*  sacrament"  arriv- 
ed, and  a  bell  was  rung.  Those  who  had  come  to 
he  confirmed  had  brought  tickets  from  their  confes- 
sors, and  those  were  thrown  into  a  hat,  aud  carried 
around  by  a  priest,  who  in  Inirn  handed  each  to  a 
bishop,  by  which  he  learned  the  name  of  each  of  us, 
and  applied  a  little  of  the  oil  to  the  foreheads.  This 
was  immediately  rubbed  off  by  a  priest  with  a  bit  of 
cloth  quite  roughly, 

I  went  home  with  some  qualms  of  conscience,  and 
often  thought  with  dread  olthe  following  tale,  wluch 
I  have  heard  told,  to  illustrate  the  sinfulness  of  con- 
duct like  mine. 

A  priest  was  once  travelling,  when  just  as  he  was 
passing  by  ^  house,  his  hone  fell  on  his  knees,  and 


\ 


■ni 


30 


AWFUL  DISCfLOSUBBS 


would  not  rise.  His  rider  dismounted  and  went  k 
to  learn  the  cause  of  so  extraordinary  an  occurrence, 
He  found  there  a  woman  near  death,  to  whom  a 
priest  was  trying  to  administer  the  sacrament,  but 
without  success;  for  every  time  she  attempted  to 
swallow  it,  it  was  thrown  back  out  of  her  mouth  into 
the  chalice.  He  perceived  it  was  owing  to  uncon* 
fessed  sin,  and  took  awav  the  holv  wafer  from  her: 
on  which  his  horse  rose  from  his  knees,  and  he  pur! 
sued  his  journey. 

I  often  remembered  also  that  I  had  been  told,  that 
we  shall  have  as  many  devils  biting  us,  if  we  go  to 
hell,  as  we  have  unconfessed  sins  on  our  consciences. 

I  was  required  to  devote  myself  for  about  a  year 
to  the  study  of  the  prayers  and  practice  of  the  cere* 
monies  necessary  on  the  reception  of  a  nun.  This  I 
found  a  very  tedious  duty ;  but  as  I  was  released  in 
a  great  degree  from  the  daily  labours  usually  de- 
manded of  novices,  I  felt  little  disposition  to  complain. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Taking  the  veil—Interview  afterwards  with  the  Superior- 
Surprise  and  horror  at  the  disclosures-rBesolution  to 
submit. 

I  WAS  introduced  into  the  Superior's  room  on  the 
evening  preceding  the  da;^  on  which  I  was  to  take 
the  veil,  to  have  an  interview  with  the  bishop.  The 
Superior  was  present,  and  the  interview  lasted  about 
half  an  hour.  The  bishop  on  this  as  on  other  occa- 
sions appeared  to  be  habitually  rough  in  his  man- 
ners. His  address  was  by  no  means  prepossessing. 
Before  I  took  the  veil,  I  was  ornamented  for  the 
ceremony,  and  was  clothed  in  a  dress  belonging  to 
the  Convent,  which  was  used  on  such  occasions;  and 
placed  not  far  from  the  altar  in  the  chapel,  in  the 
view  of  a  number  of  spectators,  who  had  assembled, 
in  number,  perhaps  about  forty.  Taking  the  veil  is 
an  affair  which  occurs  so  frequently  in  Montreal, 
that  it  has  long  ceased  to  be  regarded  as  a  novelty; 


OF  ICABU  H02TS. 


31. 


id,  alihoagli  notice  had  been  given  in  the  French 

orish  church  as  usual,  onlv  a  small  audience  as- 

3mbled  as  I  have  mentionea. 

Being  well  prepared  with  a  long  training,  and 
Jrequent  rehearsals,  for  what  I  was  to  perform,  I 
Istood  waiting  in  my  large  flowing  dress  for  the  ap- 

sarance  of  the  bishop.  He  soon  presented  himself, 
.jtering  by  a  door  behind  the  altar  ;  I  then  threw 
Imyself  at  his  feet,  and  asked  him  to  confer  upon  me 
Ithe  veil.  He  expressed  his  consent ;  and  then  turn- 
ling  to  the  Superior,  I  threw  myself  prostrate  at  her 
Ifeet,  according  to  my  instructions,  repeating  what  I 
IhaTe  before  done  at  rehearsals,  and  made  a  moye- 
ment  as  if  to  kiss  her  feet.  This  she  prevented,  or 
appeared  to  prevent,  catching  me  by  a  sudden  mo- 
tion of  her  hand,  and  granted  my  request.  I  then 
kneeled  before  the  Holy  Sacrament,  tnat  is  a  large 
round  wafer  held  by  the  Bishop  between  hia  fore- 
finger and  thumb,  and  made  my  vows. 

This  wafer  I  had  been  taught  to  regard  with  the 
utmost  veneration  as  the  real  body  of  Jesus  Christ, 
{the  presence  of  which  made  the  vows  that  were  ut- 
tered before  it  binding  in  the  most  solemn  manner. 

After  taking  the  vows,  I  proceeded  to  a  small 
I  apartment  behind  the  altar,  accompanied  by  four 
nuns,  where  there  was  a  coffin  prepared  with  my 
I  nun's  name  engraved  upon  it : 

"  Saint  Eustace." 

My  companions  lifted  it  by  four  handles  attached 
to  it,  while  I  threw  off  my  dress,  and  put  on  that  of 
a  nun  of  Soeur  Bourgeoise ;  and  then  we  all  returned 
!  to  the  chapel.  I  proceeded  first,  and  was  followed 
by  four  nuns,  the  Bishop  naming  a  number  of  world- 
ly pleasures  in  rapid  succession,  in  reply  to  which  I 
as  rapidly  repeated,  *'  Je  renounce,  je  renounce,  jo 
renounce,"— I  renounce,  I  renounce,  i  renounce. 

The  coffin  was  then  placed  in  front  of  theidtar, 
and  I  advanced  to  place  myself  in  it.  This  coffin 
was  to  be  deposited,  after  the  ceremony,  in  an  out- 


ii  1.1  ■ 


i 


32 


AWFtTL  BXSOtOSVfifiS 


mi 

■■■■  >',     !> 


Il'i'il 


liljiHii 


ifVl.lj.,) 


house,  to  be  preseryed  until  my  death,  when  it  wai 
to  reoeive  my  corpse.  There  were  reflections  which 
I  naturally  made  at  that  time,  but  I  stepped  in,  ex. 
tended  myself,  and  lav  still.  A  pillow  had  been 
placed  at  the  head  of  the  cofiin,  to  support  my  head 
in  a  comfortable  position.  A  larfi:e  thick  black  cloth 
was  then  spread  over  me,  and  the  chanting^  of  Latin 
hymns  immediately  commenced.  My  thoughts  were 
not  the  most  pleasing  during  the  time  I  lay  in  that 
situation.  The  pall,  or  Drap  Mortel,  as  the  cloth  is 
called,  had  a  strong  smell  of  inceuse,  which  was  al- 
ways disagreeable  to  me,  and  then  proved  almost 
Buifocatin^.  I  recollected  the  story  of  the  novice, 
who,  in  taking  the  veil,  lay  down  in  her  cof&n  like 
me,  and  was  covered  in  the  same  manner,  but  on  the 
removal  of  the  covering  was  found  dead. 

When  I  was  uncovered,  I  rose,  stepped  out  of  my 
coffin,  and  kneeled.  Other  ceremonies  then  follow- 
ed, of  no  particular  interest ;  after  which  the  mudo 
commenced,  and  here  the  whole  was  finished.  I  then 
proceeded  from  the  chapel,  and  returned  to  the  Su- 
perior's room,  followed  by  the  other  nuns,  who  walk- 
ed two  bv  two,  in  their  customary  manner,  with 
their  hands  folded  on  their  breasts,  and  their  eyes 
cast  down  upon  the  floor.  The  nun  who  was  to  be 
my  companion  in  future,  then  walked  at  the  end  of 
the  procession.  On  reaching  the  Superior's  dooi 
they  all  left  me,  and  I  entered  alone,  and  found  her 
with  the  Bishop  and  two  Priests. 

The  Superior  now  informed  me  that  having  taken 
the  black  veil,  it  only  remained  that  I  should  swear 
the  three  oaths  customary  on  becoming  a  nun ;  and 
that  some  explanation  would  be  necessary  from  her. 
I  was  now,  she  told  me,  to  have  access  to  every  part 
of  the  edifice,  even  to  the  cellar,  where  two  of  the 
sisters  were  imprisoned  for  causes  which  she  did  not 
mention.  I  must  be  informed  that  one  of  my  great 
duties  was  to  obey  the  priests  in  all  things ;  and  this 
I  soon  learnt,  to  my  utter  astonishment  and  horror, 


ov  KABU  xom. 


S8 


i 


was  to  live  in  the  practice  of  criminal  intercourse 
with  them.  I  expressed  some  of  the  feelings  which 
this  announcement  excited  in  me,  which  came  upon 
me  like  a  flash  of  lightning ;  but  the  only  effect  was 
to  set  her  arguing  with  me,  In  favour  of  the  crime, 
representing  it  as  a  virtue  acceptable  to  God,  and 
honourable  to  me.  Tho  priests,  she  said,  were  not 
situated  like  other  men,  being  forbidden  to  marry  ; 
while  tbey  lived  secluded,  laborious,  and  self-deny- 
ing lives  for  our  salvation.  They  might,  indeed,  oe 
considered  our  saviours,  as  without  their  service  we 
could  not  obtain  pardon  of  sin,  and  must  go  to  hell. 
Now  it  was  our  solemn  duty,  on  withdrawing  from 
the  world,  to  consecrate  our  lives  to  religion,  to  prac- 
tice every  species  of  self-denial.  We  could  not  be 
too  humble,  nor  mortify  our  feelings  too  far  ;  this 
was  to  be  done  by  opposing  them,  and  acting  con- 
trary to  them ;  and  what  she  proposed  was,  there- 
fore, pleasing  in  the  sight  of  God.  I  now  felt  how 
foolish  I  had  been  to  place  myself  in  the  power  of 
such  persons  as  were  around  me. 

From  what  she  said,  I  could  draw  no  other  oonolu« 
sions  but  that  I  was  required  to  act  like  the  most 
abandoned  of  beings,  and  that  all  my  future  asso- 
ciations were  habitually  guilty  of  the  most  heinous 
and  detestable  crimes.  When  I  repeated  my  ex- 
pressions of  surprise  and  horror,  she  told  me  that 
such  feelings  were  very  common  at  first,  and  that 
many  other  nuns  had  expressed  themselves  as  I  did, 
who  had  long  since  changed  their  minds.  She  even 
said,  that  on  her  entrance  into  the  nunnery,  she  had 
felt  like  me. 

Doubts,  she  declared,  were  among  our  greatest 
enemies.  They  would  lead  us  to  question  every  point 
of  duty,  and  induce  us  to  waver  at  every  step.  They 
arose  only  from  remaining  imperfections,  and  were 
always  evidences  of  sin.  Our  only  way  was  to  dis- 
miss them  immediately,  repent  and  confess  them. 
Pnests,  she  insisted,  could  not  sin.  It  was  a  thing 
174  o 


li'r 


34 


AWFVL  DISCL0SUEE8 


■if'  'H 


■PI  l^  ■' !  t! 

M  i 


-(i>  * 


impossible.  Everything  that  they  did,  and  wished, 
was  of  course  right.  She  hoped  I  would  see  the 
reasonableness  and  duty  of  the  oaths  I  was  then  to 
take,  and  be  faithful  to  them. 

She  gave  me  another  piece  of  information,  which 
excited  other  feelings  in  me,  scarcely  less  dreadful, 
Infants  were  sometimes  born  in  the  Convent,  but 
they  were  always  baptized,  and  immediately  Strang. 
led.  This  secured  their  everlasting  happiness ;  for 
the  baptism  purifies  them  from  all  sinfulness,  and 
being  sent  out  of  the  world  before  they  had  time  to 
do  anything  wrong,  they  were  at  once  admitted  into 
heaven.  How  happy,  she  exclaimed,  are  those  who 
secure  immortal  happiness  to  such  little  beings! 
Their  souls  would  thank  those  who  kill  their  bodies, 
if  they  had  it  in  their  power. 

Into  what  a  place,  and  among  what  society,  had  I 
been  admitted.  How  different  did  a  convent  now 
appear  from  what  I  supposed  it  to  be.  The  holy 
women  I  had  always  fancied  the  nuns  to  he,  the 
venerable  Lady  Superior,  what  are  they  P  And  the 
priests  of  the  Seminary  adjoining,  (some  of  whom, 
indeed,  I  had  reason  to  think  were  base  and  profli- 
gate  men,)  what  were  they  ail  ?  I  now  learned  that 
they  were  often  admitted  into  the  nunnery,  and  al- 
lowed to  indulge  in  the  greatest  crimes,  which  they 
and  others  call  virtues. 

And  having  listened  for  some  time  to  the  Superior 
alone,  a  number  of  the  nuns  were  admitted,  and 
took  a  free  part  in  the  conversation.  They  concur- 
red in  everything  which  she  told  me,  and  repeated, 
without  any  signs  of  shame  or  compunction,  things 
which  crimmated  themselves.  I  must  acknowledge 
the  truth,  and  declare  that  all  this  had  an  effect 
upon  my  mind.  I  questioned  whether  I  might  not 
be  in  the  wrong,  and  felt  as  if  their  reasoning  might 
have  some  lust  foundation.  I  had  been  several 
yean  under  the  tuition  of  Catholics,  and  was  ignor- 
ant of  the  Scriptures,  and  unaccustomed  to  the  80- 


,(•  ■ 


OF  KABIA  aCOKS. 


35 


ciety,  example,  and  conversation  of  Protestants ;  had 
not  heard  any  appeal  to  the  Bible  as  authority,  but 
had  been  taught,  both  by  precept  and  example,  to 
receive  as  ,truth  everything  said  by  the  priests.  I 
had  not  heard  their  authority  questioned,  nor  anjr. 
thing  said  of  any  other  standard  of  faith  but  their 
declarations.  I  had  long  been  familiar  with  f!ie  cor- 
rupt and  licentious  expressions  which  some  of  them 
use  at  confessions,  and  believed  that  other  women 
were  also.  I  had  no  standard  of  duty  to  refer  to,  aud 
no  judgment  of  my  own  which  I  knew  how  to  use, 
or  thought  of  using. 

All  around  me  insisted  that  my  doubts  proved  only 
my  own  ignorance  and  sinfulness ;  that  they  knew 
by  experience  that  they  would  soon  give  place  to 
true  knowledge,  aud  an  advance  in  religion ;  and  I 
felt  something  like  indecision. 

Still  there  was  so  much  that  disgusted  me  in  the 
discovery  I  had  now  made,  of  the  debased  characters 
around  me,  that  I  would  most  gladly  have  escaped 
from  the  nunnery,  and  never  returned.  But  that 
was  a  thing  not  to  be  thought  of.  I  was  in  their 
power,  and  this  I  deeply  felt,  while  I  tliought  there 
was  not  one  among  the  whole  number  of  nuns  to 
whom  I  could  look  for  kindness.  Tliere  was  one, 
however,  who  began  to  speak  to  me  at  length  in  a 
tone  that  gained  something  of  my  confidence, — the 
nun  whom  I  have  mentioned  before  as  distinguished 
by  her  oddity,  Jane  Bay,  who  made  us  so  much 
amusement  when  I  was  a  novice.  Although,  as  I 
have  remarked,  there  was  nothing  in  her  face,  form, 
or  manners,  to  give  me  any  pleasure,  she  addressed 
me  with  apparent  friendliness ;  and  while  she  seem- 
ed to  concur  with  some  things  spoken  by  them,  took 
an  opportunity  to  whisper  a  few  words  in  my  ear, 
unheard  by  them,  intimating  that  I  had  better  com- 
ply with  everything  the  Superior  desired,  if  I  would 
save  my  life.  I  was  somewhat  alarmed  before,  but 
i  oow  became  much  more  so,  and  determined  to 


■'.  --iv, 


36 


AWFHL  DISCIOSXniES 


il'i'i  ■   '  ■'■:! 


llr 


i   i- 


'-■!-■  ) 


h  <t 


M 
♦1 


Ml, 
ill'  i ' 


Mv      III 


make  no  further  resistance.  The  Superior  then  made 
me  repeat  the  three  oaths ;  and,  when  I  had  sworn 
them,  I  was  shown  into  one  of  the  community- rooms, 
and  remained  some  time  with  the  nuns,  who  were 
released  from  their  usual  employments,  and  enjoying 
a  recreation  day,  on  account  of  the  admission  of  a 
new  sister.  My  feelings  during  the  remainder  of  the 
day  I  shall  not  attempt  to  descrihe,  but  pass  on  to 
mention  the  ceremonies  that  took  place  at  dinner. 
lliis  description  may  give  an  idea  of  the  manner  in 
which  we  always  took  our  meals,  although  there 
were  some  points  in  which  the  breakfast  and  supper 
were  different 

At  eleven  o'clock  the  bell  rang  for  dinner,  and  the 
nuns  all  took  their  places  in  a  double  row,  in  the 
same  order  as  that  in  which  they  left  the  chapel  in 
the  morning,  except  that  my  companion  and  myself 
were  station  od  at  the  head  of  the  line.  Standing  thus 
for  a  moment,  with  our  hands  placed  one  on  the 
other  over  the  breast,  and  hidden  in  our  large  cuffs, 
with  our  heads  bent  forward,  and  eyes  fixed  on  the 
floor,  an  old  nun,  who  stood  at  the  door,  clapped  her 
hands  as  a  signal  for  us  to  proceed ;  and  the  proces- 
don  moved  on,  while  we  all  commenced  the  repetition 
of  litanies.  We  walked  on  in  this  order,  repeating 
all  the  way  until  we  reached  the  door  of  the  dining- 
room,  where  we  were  divided  into  two  lines ;  those 
on  the  right  passing  down  the  side  of  the  long  table, 
and  those  on  the  left  the  other,  till  all  were  in ;  and 
each  stopped  in  her  place.  The  plates  were  all  ar- 
ranged, each  with  a  knife,  fork,  and  spoon,  rolled  up 
in  a  napkin,  and  tied  round  with  a  linen  band  mark* 
ed  with  the  owner's  name.  My  own  plate,  knife, 
&o.,  were  prepared  like  the  rest :  and  on  the  band 
around  them  I  found  my  new  name  written—*'  Saint 
Eustace." 

There  we  stood  till  all  had  concluded  the  litany, 
when  the  old  nun,  who  had  taken  her  place  at  the 
head  of  the  table  next  the  door,  said  the  prayer  be* 


OF  ICABU  KOinL 


87 


foz6  meat,  beginning?,  "  Benedidte,''  and  we  sat 
down.  I  do  not  remember  of  what  onr  dinner  con- 
sisted, but  we  usually  had  soup,  and  some  plain  dish 
of  meat;  the  remains  of  which  were  occasionally 
served  up  at  supper  as  a  f  ricatjee.  One  of  the  nuns, 
who  had  been  appointed  to  read  that  day,  rose,  and 
begun  a  lecture  from  a  book  put  into  her  hands  hj 
the  Superior,  while  the  rest  of  us  ate  in  perfect  si- 
lence. The  nun  who  reads  durine  dinner,  stays  af- 
terwards to  dine.  As  fast  as  we  finished  our  meals, 
each  rolled  up  her  knife,  fork,  and  spoon,  in  her  nap- 
kin, and  bound  them  together  with  the  band,  and 
sat  with  hands  folded.  The  old  nun  then  said  a 
short  prayer,  arose,  stepped  a  little  aside,  dapped  her 
hands,  and  we  marched  towards  the  door,  bowing  as 
we  passed,  before  a  little  chapel,  or  glass  box,  con- 
taiuing  a  wax  image  of  the  infant  Jesus. 

Nothing  important  occurred  till  late  in  the  after- 
noon, when,  as  I  was  sitting  in  the  community-room, 
Father  Dufresue  called  me  out,  saying,  he  wished  to 
speak  with  me.  I  feared  what  was  his  intention  ; 
but  I  dared  not  disobey.  In  a  private  apartmeut, 
he  treated  me  in  a  brutal  manner ;  and,  from  two 
other  priests,  I  afterwards  received  similar  nsage 
that  evening.  Father  Dufresne  afterwards  appear- 
ed again ;  and  I  was  compelled  to  remain  in  company 
with  him  until  morning. 

I  am  assured  that  the  conduct  of  priests  in  our 
Convent  had  never  been  exposed,  and  it  is  not  ima- 
gined by  the  people  of  the  tJuited  States.  This  in- 
duces me  to  say  what  I  do,  notwithstanding  the 
strong  reasons  I  have  to  let  it  remain  unknown. 
Still  I  cannot  force  myself  to  speak  on  such  subjects 
except  in  the  most  brief  manner. 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Daily  ceremonies—Jane  Bay  among  the  nuns. 
On  Thursday  morning,  the  bell  rang  at  half-past  six 
to  waken  us.    The  old  nun  who  was  acting  as  night* 
watch  immediately  spoke  aloud  : 


f   1 


i 


11 


88 


AWFUL  DISCL09T7BES 


'^YoicileSeigDeoraui  vient."  (Behold  the  Lord 
Cometh.)    The  nuns  all  responded  : 

**  AII008— y  devant  loi."  (Let  usg^o  and  meet  him.) 

We  tben  rose  immediately,  and  dressed  as  ezpedi. 
tiously  as  possibly,  steppiug  into  the  passage-way, 
at  the  foot  of  our  bed,  as  soon  as  we  were  ready,  and 
taking  place  each  beside  her  opposite  companion. 
Thus  we  were  soon  drawn  up  in  a  double  row  the 
whole  leugth  of  the  room,  with  our  hands  folded 
across  our  breasts,  and  concealed  in  the  broad  cuffs 
of  our  sleeves.  Not  a  word  was  uttered.  When  the 
signal  was  given,  we  all  proceeded  to  the  commu- 
nity-room, which  is  spacious,  and  took  our  places  in 
rows  facing  the  entrance,  near  which  the  Superior 
v/as  seated  in  a  vergiere. 

We  first  repeated  **  Au  nom  du  PSre,  da  File,  et 
du  Saint  Esprit— Aninsi  soit  il."  (In  the  name  of 
the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Ghost,— Amen.) 

We  then  kneeled  and  kissed  the  floor;  then,  still 
on  our  knees,  we  said  a  very  long  prayer,  hecriu' 
iiing : ''  Divin  Jesus,  sauveur  de  mou  ame/'  (Divine 
Jesus,  Saviour  of  my  soul.)  Then  came  the  Lord's 
prayers,  three  Hail  Marys,  four  creeds,  and  five  con- 
xeRsions,  (confesse  k  Dieu.) 

Next  we  repeated  the  ten  commandments.  Then 
we  repeated  the  acts  of  faith,  and  a  prayer  to  the 
Virgin,  in  Latin,  which  like  everything  else  in  Latin, 
I  never  understood  a  word  of.  Next  we  said  litanies 
of  the  Holy  Name  of  Jesus,  in  Latin,  which  were 
aiterwards  to  be  repeated  several  times  in  the  coarse 
of  the  day.  Then  came  the  prayer  for  the  begin  ninf; 
of  the  day ;  then  bending  down,  we  commenced  the 
Orison  Mental,  (pv  Mental  Orison,)  which  lasted 
about  au  hour  and  a  half. 

This  exercise  was  considered  peculiarly  solemn. 
We  were  told  in  the  nunnery  that  a  certain  saint  was 
saved  by  the  use  of  it,  as  she  never  omitted  it.  It 
consists  of  several  parts :  First,  the  Superior  read  to 
1^8  a  cha|>ter  iro^fx  a  book^  which  oqou^ied  9ve  ip|« 


OF  MABIA  UONK. 


39 


nixtes.  Then  profound  silence  prevailed  for  fifteen 
minutes,  during  which  we  were  meditating  upon  it. 
Theu  she  read  another  chapter  of  equal  length  on  a 
different  subject,  and  we  meditated  upon  that  ano- 
ther quarter  of  an  hour ;  and  after,  a  third  reading 
and  meditation,  we  finished  'the  exercise  with  a 
prayer,  called  an  act  of  contrition,  in  which  we  asked 
forgiven  ess  for  the  sins  committed  during  the  Orison. 

Durinpc  this  hour  and  a  half  I  became  very  weary, 
having  before  been  kneeling  for  some  time,  and  hav- 
ing then  to  sit  in  another  position  more  uncomfort- 
able, with  my  feet  under  me,  and  my  hands  clasped, 
and  my  body  bent  humbly  forward,  with  my  head 
bowed  down. 

When  the  Orison  was  over,  we  all  rose  to  the  up* 
right  kneeling  posture,  and  repeated  several  prayers, 
and  the  litanies  of  the  providences,  "  providence  de 
Dieu,''  &c.,  then  followed  a  numberof  Latin  prayers, 
which  we  repeated  on  the  way  to  mass,  for  in  the 
nunnery  we  had  mass  daily. 

When  mass  was  over,  we  proceeded  in  our  usual 
order  to  the  eating-room  to  breakfast,  practising  the 
same  forms  wliich  I  have  described  at  dmner.  Hav- 
ing made  our  meal  in  silence,  we  repeated  the  lita- 
nies of  the  *'  holy  name  of  Jesus,"  as  we  proceeded 
to  the  community-room ;  and  such  as  had  not  finish- 
ed them  on  their  arrival,  threw  themselves  upon 
their  knees,  and  remained  there  until  they  had  gone 
through  with  them,  and  then  kissing  the  floor,  rose 
again. 

At  nine  o'clock  commenced  the  lecture,  which  was 
read  by  a  nun  appointed  to  perform  that  duty  that 
day :  all  the  rest  of  us  in  the  room  being  engaged  in 
work. 

The  nuns  were  at  this  time  distributed  in  different 
commuuity  rooms,  at  different  kinds  of  work,  and 
each  wae  listening  to  a  lecture.  This  exercise  con- 
tinued until  ten  o'clock,  when  the  recreation-bell 
laug.     We  still  continued  our  work,  but  tho  uuus 


i    ; 


ill: 

1:1 


$ '  t 


40 


AWFUL  DISCLOSUBES 


bef^an  to  converse  with  each  other,  on  subjects  per. 
mitted  by  the  rules,  in  the  hearing  of  the  old  nuns 
one  of  whom  was  seated  in  each  of  the  groups. 

At  half-past  ten  the  silence  bell  rangf,  and  this  con* 
versation  instantly  ceased,  and  the  recitation  of  some 
Latin  prayers  commenced,  which  continued  half  an 
hour. 

At  eleven  o'clock  the  dinner-bell  rang,  and  we 
went  through  the  forms  and  ceremonies  of  the  pre* 
ceding  day.  We  proceeded  two  by  two.  The  old 
nun  who  had  the  command  of  us,  clapped  her  hands 
as  the  first  couple  reached  the  door,  when  we  stop- 
ped. The  first  two  dipped  their  fingers  into  the  font, 
touched  the  holy  water  to  the  breast,  forehead,  and 
each  side,  thus  forming  a  cross,  said,  "  In  the  name 
of  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  Amen,"  and 
then  walked  on  to  the  dining-room  repeating  the  li- 
tanies. The  rest  followed  their  example.  On  reach. 
ing  the  door  the  couples  divided,  and  the  two  rows 
of  nuns  marched  up,  stopped,  and  faced  the  tahle 
against  their  plates.  There  we  stood,  repeating  the 
close  of  the  litany  aloud.    The  old  nun  pronounced 

"  Benedictb," 
and  we  sat  down.  One  of  our  number  began  to  read 
a  lecture,  which  continued  during  the  whole  meal ; 
she  stays  to  eat  after  the  rest  have  retired.  When 
we  had  dined,  each  of  us  folded  up  our  napkin,  and 
again  folded  her  hands.  The  old  nun  then  repeated 
a  short  prayer  in  French,  and  stepping  aside  from 
the  head  of  the  table,  let  us  pass  out  as  we  came  in. 
Each  of  us  bowed  in  passing  the  little  chapel  near 
the  door,  which  is  a  glass-case,  containing  a  waxen 
figure  of  the  infant  Jesus.  When  we  reached  the 
community-room  we  took  our  places  in  rows,  and 
kneeled  upon  the  floor,  while  a  nun  leaA  aloud, 
"Douleurs  de  notre  Sainte  Marie,*'  ^the  sukrows  of 
our  holy  Mary.)  At  the  end  of  eacn  verse  we  re- 
spondea  "  Ave  Maria."  We  then  repeated  again 
the  litany  of  the  providences  and  the 


OF  MABIA  VOmC. 


41 


"  BEiossAinx." 
.  jen  we  kissed  the  floor,  and,  rising,  took  our  work, 
Iwith  leave  to  conyerse  on  permitted  subjects — this  is 
[what  is  called  recreation—tiW  one  o'clock.    We  then 
Ibegan  to  repeat  litanies,  one  at  a  time  in  succession, 
Istill  engaged  in  sewing,  for  an  hour. 
I   At  two  o'clock  commenced  the  afternoon  lectures, 
which  lasted  till  near  three.    At  that  hour  one  of  the 
nuns  stood  up  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  and  asked 
each  of  us  a  question  out  of  the  catechism ;  and  such 
as  were  unable  to  answer  correctly  were  obliged  to 
kneel,  until  that  exercise  was  concluded,  upon  as 
many  dry  peas  as  there  were  verses  in  the  chapter 
oat  of  which  they  were  questioned.      This  seems 
like  a  penance  of  no  great  importance ;  but  I  have 
sometimes  kneeled  on  peas  until  I  suffered  great  in- 
convenience, and  even  pain.      It  soon  makes  one 
feel  as  if  needles  were  running  through  the  skin; 
{whoever  thinks  it  a  trifle  had  better  try  it. 

At  four  o'clock  recreation  commenced,  when  we 
I  were  allowed,  as  usual,  to  speak  to  each  other  while 
I  at  work. 

At  half-past  four  we  began  to  repeat  prayers  in 
I  Latin,  while  we  worked,  and  concluded  about  flve 
{o'clock,  when  we  commenced  repeating  the  '*  pray- 
ers for  the  examination  of  conscience,"  the  "  pray- 
ler  after  confession/'  the  "  prayer  before  sacrament," 
{and  the  **  prayer  after  sacrament."      Thus  we  con- 
tinued our  work  until  dark,  when  we  laid  it  aside, 
I  and  hegan  to  go  over  the  same  prayers  which  we  had 
I  repeated  in  the  morning,  with  the  exception  of  the 
I  orison  mental ;  instead  of  that  long  exercise,  we  ex- 
lamined  our  consciences,  to  determine  whether  we 
{had  performed  the  resolution  we  had  made  in  the 
morning,  and  such  as  had  kept  it  repeated  an  '*  acte 
dejoie,"  or  expression  of  gratitude;  while  such  as 
had  not,  said  an  "  acte  de  contrition." 

When  the  prayers  were  concluded,  any  nun  who 
had  been  disobedient  in  the  day,  knelt  and  asked 


M^ 


M 


48 


▲WFUL  BISOLOSTTBES 


pardon  of  the  Soperior  and  her  companioni «  forfhe 
Boandalshe  had  caused  them,"  and  then  reqnestei 
the  Superior  to  give  her  a  penance  of  perform.  TVIieii 
all  the  penaDces  had  been  imposed,  we  all  proceed. 
ed  to  the  eatiog-room  to  supper,  repeating  litaniei  | 
on  the  way. 

At  supper,  the  ceremonies  were  the  same  as  at  I 
dinner,  except  that  there  was  no  lecture  read.   We  | 
ate  in  silence,  and  went  out  bowing  to  the  chapellej 
and  repeating  litanies.    Beturning  to  the  commun. 
ity-room,  which  we  had  left,  we  had  more  prayers  to  | 
repeat,  which  are  called  La  couromiej  (crown,)  which 
consists  of  the  following  parts : 
Ist.    Four  Paters. 
2nd.  Four  Ave  Marias. 
3rd.   Four  Gloria  Fatria. 
4th.    Beuissez,  Santeys. 
At  the  close  of  these  we  kissed  the  floor ;  after  which 
we  had  recreation  till  half -past  eight  o'clock,  being 
allowed  to  conyerse  on  permitted  subjects,  but  close* 
ly  watched,  and  not  allowed  to  sit  in  the  comers. 

At  balf-past  eight  a  bell  was  rung,  and  a  chap- 
ter was  read  to  us,  in  a  book  of  meditations,  to  em- 
ploy bur  minds  upon  during  our  waking  hours  at 
night. 

Striding  near  the  door,  we  dipped  our  fingers  in 
the  holy  water,  crossed  and  blessed  ourselves,  and 
proceeded  up  to  the  sleep-ing-room  in  the  usual  or- 
der, two  by  two.  When  we  had  got  into  bed,  we  re- 
peated a  prayer  beginning  with, — 

"Mon  Dieu,  je  vous  donne  mon  coBur,"— 
"  My  God,  I  give  you  my  heart ;" 
and  then  an  old  nun,  bringing  some  holy  water, 
sprinkled  it  on  our  beds  to  drive  away  the  devil,  while 
we  took  some  and  crossed  ourselves  again. 

At  nine  o'clock  the  bell  rang,  and  all  who  were 
awake  repeated  a  prayer,  called  the  offrande ;  those 
who  were  asleep  were  considered  as  excused. 

After  my  admission  among  the  nuns,  I  had  more 


or  KABIA  ^ONX. 


48 


)iK>rtanity  than  before  to  obsenre  tbe  oondtict  of 
ltd  Jane  Ray.  She  behaved  amite  differently  from 
le  rest,  and  with  a  degree  of  levity  irreconcilable 
ith  the  rules.  She  was,  as  I  have  described  her, 
.large  woman,  with  nothing  beautiful  or  attractive 
11  her  face,  form,  or  manners ;  careless  in  her  dress, 
md  of  a  restless  disposition,  which  prevented  her 
from  applying  herself  to  anything  for  any  leugth  of 
lime,  and  kept  her  roving  about,  and  almost  per- 
petually talking  to  somebody  or  other.  It  would 
)6  very  difficult  to  give  an  accurate  description  of 
his  sioj^ular  woman ;  dressed  in  the  plain  garments 
)f  the  iiuns,  bound  by  the  same  vows,  and  accus* 
iomed  to  the  same  life,  resembling  them  in  no- 
Ihing  else,  and  frequently  interrupting  all  their  em- 
ployments. She  was  apparently  almost  always 
Studying,  or  pursuing  some  odd  fancy ;  now  rising 
rom  sewing  to  walk  up  and  down,  or  straying  in 
rem  another  apartment,  looking  about,  addressing 
ome  of  us,  and  passing  out  again,  or  saying  some- 
thing to  make  us  laugh.  But  what  showed  she  was 
iio  novelty,  was  the  Uttle  attention  paid  to  her,  and 
[the  levity  with  which  she  was  treated  by  the  whole 
Inans ;  even  the  Superior  every  day  passed  over  ir- 
[regularities  in  this  singular  person,  which  she  would 
lave  punished  with  penances,  or  at  least  have  met 
urith  reprimands,  in  anv  other.  From  what  I  saw  of 
Iher  I  soon  perceived  that  she  betrayed  two  distinct 
traits  of  character ;  a  kind  disposition  towards  such 
as  she  chose  to  prefer,  and  a  pleasure  in  teasing 
|tho8e  she  disliked,  or  such  as  had  offended  her. 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

I  Description  of  apartments  in  the  Black  Nunnery,  in  order : 
1st  Floor— 2nd  Floor—Garret— The  Founder— Superi- 
or's management  with  the  friends  of  Novices— Reli- 
gious lies-^Criminality  of  concealing  sins  at  confession. 

I  Willi  now  give  from  memory  a  general  description 
vf  the  interior  of  the  Qonve^t  pf  Slack  J^uns,  except 


1  ■' 

I 

I 


I" 


'5i: 


44 


AWFUL  DI80LO8UBB8 


Hi*' 


the  few  ai>artmeut8  whioh  I  never  taw.  I  may 
inaccurate  in  some  things,  as  the  apartments 
passages  of  that  spacious  building  are,  numeu, 
and  various ;  but  I  am  willing  to  risk  my  creditfoi 
truth  and  sincerity  on  the  general  corresponden 
between  my  description  and  things  as  they  % 
And  this  would,  perhaps,  be  as  good  a  case  as  any 
which  to  test  the  truth  of  my  statements,  were 
possible  to  obtain  access  to  the  interior.  It  is  wel 
known,  that  none  but  veiled  nuns,  the  bishop  ant 
priests,  are  ever  admitted :  and,  of  course,  that  l 
cannot  have  seen  what  I  profess  to  describe,  ill 
have  not  been  a  black  nun.  The  priests  who  read 
this  book  will  acknowledge  to  themselves  the  tratti 
of  my  description ;  but  will,  of  course,  deny  it  td 
the  world,  and  probably  exert  themselves  to  destroy 
my  credit.  I  offer  to  every  reader  the  following  de< 
scription,  knowing  that  time  may  possibly  throw 
open  those  sacred  recesses,  and  allow  the  entrance 
of  those  who  can  satisfy  themselves,  with  their  own 
eyes,  of  its  truth.  Some  of  my  declarations  may 
be  thought  deficient  in  evidence,  and  this  they 
must  of  necessity  be  in  the  prestut  state  of  thiug<!, 
But  here  is  a  kind  of  evidence,  on  which  I  rely,  as  I 
see  how  unquestionable  and  satisfactory  it  must 
prove,  whenever  it  shall  be  obtained. 

If  the  interior  of  the  Black  Nunnery,  whenever  it 
shall  be  examined,  is  materially  different  from  the 
following  description,  then  I  shall  claim  no  ooufi* 
dence,  of  my  readers.  If  it  resemble  it,they  will,  I 
persume,  place  confidence  in  some  of  these  declara* 
tions,  on  which  I  may  never  be  corroborated  by 
true  and  living  witnesses. 

I  am  sensible  that  great  changes  may  be  made  in 
the  furniture  of  apartments ;  that  new  walls  may 
be  constructed,  or  old  ones  removed ;  and  I  have 
been  incredibly  informed,  that  masons  have  been 
employed  in  the  Nunnery  since  I  left  it.  I  well 
know,  however^  that  entire  changes  cannot  be  made, 


OP  aCABlA  MOlTfi. 


4q 


^d  that  enough  must  remain  as  it  was  to  substan- 
[ate  my  deses^iption,  whenever  the  truth  shall  be 

^^^°'     •  The  First  Story. 

Beginning  at  the  extremity  of  the  western  wing 
I  the  Couveut  towards  Notre  Dame  street,  on  the 
ret  story,  there  is— 

Ist.  The  Nuns'  priyate  chapel  adjoining  which  is 

passage  to  a  small  projection  of  the  building  ex« 

Lndingfrom  the  upper  storyto  the  ground,  with 

tary  small  windows.      Into  the  passage  we  were 

)metimes  required  to  bring  wood  from  the  yard, 

ad  pile  it  up  for  use. 

2ud.  A  large  community-room,  with  plain  benches 
ced  against  the  wall  to  sit,  and  lower  ones  in  front 
place  our  feet  upon.      There  is  a  fountain  in  the 
Eassage  near  the  chimney  at  the  further  end,  for 
rashiog  the  hands  and  face,  with  a  green  curtain 
iiding  ou  a  rod  before  it.    This  passage  leads  to  the 
Ud  nuns*  sleeping-room  on  the  right,  andtheSuperi- 
lr*8  sleeping-room  just  beyond  it,  as  well  as  to  a 
[tair''Case  which  conducts  to  the  nuns'  sleeping-room, 
^r  dormitoire  above.    At  the  end  of  the  passage  is  a 
loor  opening  into — 
3rd.  The  dining-room ;  this  is  larger  than  the  com« 
lunity-room,  and  has  three  long  tables  for  eating, 
Dd  a  chapelle,  or  collection  of  little  pictures,  a  cru- 
cifix, and  a  small  image  of  the  infant  Saviour  in  a 
iflass  case.     This  apartment  has  four  doors,~by  the 
irstof  which  we  are  supposed  to  have  entered, 
rhUe  one  opens  to  a  pantry,  and  the  third  and 
fourth  to  the  two  next  apartments. 
4th.  A  large  community-room,  with  tables  for 
)wiag,  and  a  stair-case  on  the  opposite  left-hand 
somer. 
5th.  A  community-room  for  prayer  used  by  both 
luns  and  novices.    In  the  further  right-hand  cor- 
ler  is  a  small  room,  partitioned  off,  called  the  room 
{or  examination  of  conscience,  which  I  had  visited 


l:H 


I    i. 


m 


i.  ! 


.■  :''' 

1^i!l 


.I' 


|.^):*i! 


46 


AWFtTL  DiaoLOsunriS 


"H 


while  a  uovioo  by  permission  of  the  Suporior,  uj 
where  nans  and  novices  occasionally  resorted 
reflect  on  their  character,  usually  in  preparation 
the  sacrameui,  or  when  they  had  transmssed  sou 
of  their  rules.  This  little  room  was  hardly  \m 
enough  to  coutain  half  a  dozen  persons  at  a  time. 

6th.  Next,  beyond,  is  a  large  commuuity-roomfoi 
Sundays.  A  door  leads  to  the  yard,  and  thence  to 
gate  in  the  wall  on  the  cross  street. 

7th.  Adjoining  this  is  a  sitting  room,  f  rooting 
the  cross  street,  with  two  windows,  and  a  store  ro^ 
on  the  side  opposite  them.     There  is  but  little  for 
niture,  and  that  very  plain. 

8th.  From  this  room  a  door  leads  into  what  Imiij 
call  the  wax-room,  as  it  contains  many  fi;;ure8ii 
wax,  not  intended  for  sale.  There  we  somei 
used  to  pray,  or  meditate  on  the  Saviour's  passiouc 
This  room  projects  from  the  main  building ;  leaTin^l 
it,  you  enter  a  long  passage,  with  cupboards  on  thi 
right,  in  which  are  stored  crockery- ware,  knives  and| 
lof  ks,  and  other  articles  of  table  furniture,  to  re^ 
those  worn  out  or  broken — all  of  the  plainest  de* 
scription;  also,  shovels,  tongs,  &c.  This  passago 
leads  to^- 

9th.  A  corner  room,  with  a  few  benches,  &c.,  ani 
a  door  leading  to  a  gate  in  the  street.  Here  some 
of  the  medicines  were  kept,  and  persons  were  oftea 
admitted  on  business,  or  to  obtain  medicines  with 
tickets  from  the  priests  ;  and  waited  till  the  Supe^ 
rior  or  an  old  nun  could  be  sent  for.  Beyoud  tliii 
room  we  never  were  allowed  to  go  ;  and  I  cannot 
speak  from  personal  knowledge  of  what  came  next 

The  Second  Story. 

Beginning,  as  before,  at  the  western  extremity  of 
the  north  wing,  but  on  the  second  story,  the  furthest 
apartment  in  that  direction  which  I  ever  entered  WU| 

Ist.  The  nuns'  sleeping-room,  or  dormitoire,  which 
I  have  already  described.  Here  is  an  access  to  the 
projection  mentioned  in  speaking  of  the  first  sturj. 


OP  JIArJA  YONi:. 


47 


ITIie  Btairs  by  which  we  oamo  up  to  bed  are  at  the 
If urtber  eud  of  the  room ;  and  near  them  a  crucifix 
laud  font  of  holy  water.  A  door  at  the  end  of  the 
Iroom  opens  into  a  passage,  with  two  small  rooms, 
laud  closets  between  them,  containing;  bed-clothes. 

Text  you  enter,— 

2nd.    A  small  community-room,  beyond  which  is 
la  passage  with  a  i. arrow  staircase,  seldom  used, 
which  leads  into  the  fourth  community-room,  in  the 
Ifourth  story.    Following  the  passage  just  mention- 
sd,  you  enter  by  a  door, — 

drd.    A  little  sitting-room,  furnished  in  the  fol- 
flowing  manner  :— with  chairs,  a  sofa  on  the  north 
side,  covered  with  a  red-fi;<ured  cover  and  fringe ;  a 
table  in  the  middle,  commonly  bearing  one  or  two 
books,  an  inkstand,  pen,  &o.  At  one  corner  is  a  little 
projectioa  into  the  room,  caused  by  a  staircase  lead- 
mgfrom  above  to  the  floor  below,  without  any  com- 
munication with  the  second  story.    This  room  has 
a  door  opening  upon  a  staircase  leading  down  to  the 
yard,  on  the  opposite  side  of  which  is  a  gate  opening 
into  the  cross  street.      By  thib  ^:7ay  the  physician  is 
Admitted,  except  when  he  comes  later  than  usual. 
rWhen  he  comes  in,  he  usually  sits  a  little  while,  un- 
til a  nun  goes  into  the  adjoining  nuns'  sick-room,  to 
see  if  all  is  ready,  and  returns  to  admit  him.    After 
[prescribiug  for  the  patients,  he  goes  no  further,  but 
[returns  by  the  way  he  enters ;  and  these  are  the  only 
rooms  into  which  he  is  ever  admitted. 

4th.  The  nuns'  sick-room  adjoins  the  little  sitting- 
!  room  on  the  east,  and  has,  I  think,  four  windows 
towards  the  north,  with  beds  ranged  in  two  rows 
from  end  to  end,  and  a  few  more  between  them,  near 
I  the  opposite  extremity.  The  door  to  the  sitting- 
Iroom  swings  to  the  left,  and  behind  it  is  a  table, 
while  a  glass  case  on  the  right  contains  a  wax  figure 
of  the  infant  Saviour,  with  several  sheep.  Near  the 
north-eastern  corner  of  this  room  are  two  doors,  one 
of  which  opens  into  a  long  and  narrow  passage, 


m'r" 


4-    - 


48 


AWFUL  DISCLOSTTBES 


leading  to  the  head  of  the  ^reat  staircase  that  con. 
ducts  to  the  cross  street.  By  this  passage  the  physiJ 
cian  sometimes  finds  his  way  to  the  sick-room,  when 
he  comes  later  than  usual.  He  rings  the  hell  at  the 
gate,  which  I  was  told  had  a  concealed  pull,  known 
only  to  him  and  the  priests,  proceeds  up  stairs  and 
through  the  passage,  rapping  three  times  at  the  door 
of  the  sick-room,  which  is  opened  by  a  nun  in  at. 
tendance,  after  she  has  given  one  rap  in  reply. 
When  he  has  visited  his  patients  and  prescribed  fori 
them,  he  returns  by  the  same  way. 

5th.    Next  beyond  the  sick-room,  is  a  large  unoc-l 
cupied  apartment,  half  divided  by  two  partial  partiJ 
tions,  which  leave  an  open  space  in  the  middle.  Here  | 
some  of  the  old  nuns  commonly  meet  in  the  day  time. 
6th.    A  door  from  this  apartment  opens  into  ano* 
ther,  not  appropriated  to  any  peculiar  use,  but  con. 
taining  a  table,  where  medicines  are  sometimes  pre* 
pared  by  an  old  nun,  who  is  usually  found  there, 
jPassing  through  this  room,  you  enter  a  passage,  with 
doors  on  its  four  sides ;  that  on  the  left,  which  is 
kept  fastened  on  the  inside,  leads  to  the  staircase 
and  gate ;  and  that  in  front  to  tho  private  sick* 
rooms,  soon  to  be  described. 

7th.  That  on  the  right  leads  to  another,  appro* 
priated  to  nuns  suffering  with  the  most  loathsome 
disease.  There  was  usually  a  number  of  straw  mat* 
tresses  in  that  room,  as  I  well  know,  having  helped 
to  carry  them  in,  after  the  yard-man  had  filled  them. 
A  door  beyond  enters  into  a  store-room,  which  ex* 
tends  also  beyond  this  apartment.  On  the  right, 
another  door  opens  into  another  passage,  crossing 
which,  you  enter  by  a  door. 

8th.  A  room  with  bed  and  screen  in  one  comer,  on 
which  nuns  were  laid  to  be  examined,  before  their 
introduction  into  the  sick-room  last  mentioned. 
Another  door,  opposite  the  former,  opens  into  a  pa8< 
sage,  in  which  is  a  staircase  leading  down. 

9th.  Beyond  this  is  a  spare  room,  sometimes  used 
to  store  apples,  boxes  of  different  things,  &c. 


OF  ICABXA  3C0NK. 


49 


lom,  which  ex* 


10th.  Betuming  now  to  the  passage  which  opens 
on  one  side  upon  the  stairs  to  the  gate,  we  enter  the 
only  remaining  door,  which  leads  into  an  apartment 
nsually  occupied  by  some  of  the  old  nuns,  and  fre- 
quently by  the  Superior. 

nth  and  12th.  Beyond  this  are  two  more  sick- 
rooms, in  one  of  which  those  nuns  stay  who  are  wait- 
ing their  accouchment,  and  in  the  other  those  who 
have  passed  it. 

13th.  The  next  is  a  small  sitting-room,  where  a 
priest  waits  to  baptize  the  infants  previous  to  their 
murder.  A  passage  leads  from  this  room  on  the  left, 
by  the  doors  of  two  succeeding  apartments,  neither 
of  which  have  I  ever  entered. 

14th.  The  first  of  them  is  the  "  holy  retreat,"  or 
room  occupied  by  the  priests,  while  suffering  the 
penalty  of  their  licentiousness. 

16th.  The  other  is  a  sitting-room,  to  which  they 
have  access.  Beyond  these,  the  passage  leads  to  two 
rooms,  containing  closets  for  the  storage  of  various 
articles ;  and  two  others,  where  persons  are  received 
who  come  on  business. 

The  public  hospitals  succeed,  and  extend  a  con- 
siderable distance— I  believe,  to  the  extremity  of  the 
building.  By  a  public  entrance  in  that  part,  priests 
often  come  into  the  Nunnery ;  and  I  have  often  seen 
some  of  them  thereabouts,  who  must  have  entered 
that  way.  Indeed,  priests  often  get  into  the  "  holy 
retreat'*  without  exposing  themselves  in  the  view  of 
persons  in  the  other  parts  of  the  Convent,  and  have 
heen  first  known  to  be  there,  by  the  yard-nuns  being 
sent  to  the  Seminary  for  their  clothes. 

The  Congregational  Nunnery  was  founded  by  a 
nun,  called  Sister  Bourgeoise.  She  taught  a  school 
in  Montreal,  and  left  property  for  the  foundation  of 
a  Convent.  Her  body  is  buried,  and  her  heart  is 
kept  under  the  Nunnery  in  an  iron  chest,  which  has 
been  shown  to  me,  with  the  assurance  that  it  conti- 
nues in  perfect  preservation,  although  she  has  been 
174  p 


ii 


60 


AWTTTL  DISCLOSUBES 


'I 


dead  more  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  years.  In  the 
chapel  is  the  following  inscription :  **  Soeur  Bour-I 
^eoise,  londatrice  du  Convent."  (Sister  Bourgeoise, 
Founder  of  the  Convent.) 

Nothin(v  was  more  common  than  for  the  Sapeiioi 
to  step  hastily  into  our  community-room,  while  num.  | 
bers  of  us  were  assembled  there,  and  hastily  comma- 
nicate  her  wishes  in  words  like  these : — 

"Here  are  the  parents  of  such  a  novice;  cornel 
with  me,  and  bear  me  out  in  this  story."  She  would  | 
then  mention  the  outlines  of  a  tissue  of  falsehoods 
she  had  just  invented,  that  we  might  be  prepared  to 
fabricate  circumstances,  and  throw  in  whatever  elsa 
might  favour  the  deception.  This  was  justified  and 
indeed  most  highly  commanded,  by  the  system  o! 
faith  by  which  we  are  instructed. 

It  was  a  common  remark  always  at  the  initiation 
of  a  new  nun  into  the  Black  nun  department,  that  is, 
to  receive  the  black  veil,  that  the  introduction  of 
another  novice  into  the  convent  as  a  veiled  nun,  al- 
ways caused  the  introduction  of  a  veiled  nun  into 
heaven  as  a  saint,  which  was  on  account  of  the  sin- 
gular disappearance  of  some  of  the  older  nuns  always 
at  the  entrance  of  new  ones. 

To  witness  the  scenes  which  often  occurred  be- 
tween  us  and  strangers  would  have  struck  a  person 
most  powerfully,  if  he  had  known  how  truth  was  set 
at  nought.  The  Superior,  with  a  serious  and  digni- 
fied air,  and  a  pleasant  voice  and  aspect,  would  com- 
mence a  recital  of  things  most  favourable  to  the 
character  of  the  absent  novice,  representing  her 
equally  fond  of  her  situation,  and  beloved  by  the 
otner  inmates.  The  tale  told  by  the  Superior,  what- 
ever it  was,  however  unheard  before  might  have 
been  any  of  her  statements,  was  then  attested  hy  us, 
who  in  every  way  we  could  think  of,  endeavoured  to 
confirm  her  declarations  beyond  the  reach  of  doubt. 

SometimeBthe  Superior  would  entrust  the  manage- 
ment of  sacAi  a  Ofije  to  some  of  the  nuns,  whether  to 


OF  MAIIIA  KONS. 


babituato  us  to  the  practice  in  which  she  was  so 
highly  accomplished,  or  to  relieve  herself  of  what 
would  have  been  a  serious  burden  to  most  other 
persons,  or  to  ascertain  whether  she  could  depend 
upon  us,  or  all  topretber,  I  cannot  tell.  Often,  how- 
ever, have  I  seen  her  throw  open  a  door,  and  say,  in 
a  hurried  manner,  "  Who  can  tell  the  best  story  ?** 

One  point,  on  which  we  have  received  frequent 
and  particular  instructions  was,  the  nature  of  false- 
hoods. On  this  subject  I  have  heard  many  a  speech, 
I  had  almost  said  many  a  sermon ;  and  I  was  led  to 
believe  that  it  was  one  of  great  importance,  one  on  -f 
which  it  was  a  duty  to  be  well  informed,  as  well  an 
to  act.  "  What!"  exclaimed  a  priest  one  day—"  what, 
a  nun  of  your  age,  and  not  know  the  difference  be- 
tween a  wicked  and  a  religious  lie  I" 

He  then  went  on,  as  had  been  done  many  times 
previously  in  my  hearing,  to  show  the  essential  dif • 
ference  between  the  two  different  kinds  of  falsehoods. 
A  lie  told  merely  for  the  injury  of  another,  for  our 
own  interest  alone,  or  for  no  object  at  all,  he  painte  I 
as  a  sin  worthy  of  penance.— But  a  lie  told  for  the 
good  of  the  church  or  convent,  was  meritorious,  and 
of  course  the  tellinpf  of  it  a  duty.  And  of  this  class 
of  lies  there  were  many  varieties  and  shades.  This 
doctrine  has  been  inculcated  on  me  and  my  compa- 
niousin  the  nunnery,  more  times  than  I  can  enu- 
merate ;  and  to  say  that  it  was  srenorally  received, 
would  be  to  tell  part  of  the  truth.  We  often  saw  the 
practice  of  it,  ana  were  frequently  made  to  take  part 
m  it.  Whenever  anything  which  the  Superior 
thought  impoirtant,  could  be  most  conveniently  ac- 
complished by  falsehood,  she  resorted  to  it  without 
scruple. 

There  was  a  class  of  oases,  ia  which  she  more  fre- 
quently relied  on  deception  than  any  other. 

The  friends  of  novices  frequently  applied  at  the 
Convent  to  see  them,  or  at  least  to  inquire  after  their 
welfare.   It  was  oommon  lor  them  to  be  politely  ro« 


i* 


"•hit 


mi]  -'^  • 


\53' 


„i 


r^i-V^ 


tmw 


'\ 


52 


AWFUL  DISCLOSUBES 


fased  an  interview,  on  some  account  or  other,  gene- 
rally a  mere  pretext ;  and  then  the  Superior  generally 
sought  to  make  as  favourable  an  impression  as  pos- 
sible on  the  visitors.  Sometimes  she  would  make  up 
a  story  on  the  spot,  and  tell  the  strangers ;  requiring 
some  of  us  to  confirm  it  in  the  most  convincing  way 
we  could. 

At  other  times  she  would  prefer  to  make  over  to 
us  the  task  of  deceiving,  and  we  were  commended  in 
( roportion  to  our  ingenuity  and  success. 

Some  nun  usually  showed  her  submission,  by  im- 
mediately stepping  forward.  She  would  then  add, 
perhaps,  that  the  parents  of  such  a  novice,  whom 
she  named,  were  in  waiting,  and  it  was  necessary 
that  they  should  be  told  such  and  such  things.  To 
perform  so  difficult  a  task  well,  was  considered  a 
difficult  duty,  and  it  was  one  of  the  most  certain 
ways  to  gain  the  favour  of  the  Superior.  Whoever 
volunteered  to  make  a  story  on  the  spot,  was  sent 
immediately  to  tell  it,  and  the  other  nuns  present 
were  hurried  off  with  her  under  strict  injunctions  to 
uphold  her  in  everything  she  might  state.  The  Su- 
perior, as  there  was  every  reason  to  believe,  on  all 
such  occasions,  when  she  did  not  herself  appear, 
hastened  to  the  apartment  adjoining  that  in  which 
the  nuns  were  goiug,  there  to  listen  through  the  thin 
partition,  to  hear  whether  all  performed  their  parts 
aright.  It  was  not  uncommon  for  her  to  go  rather 
farther,  when  she  wanted  to  give  such  explanations 
as  she  could  have  desired.  She  would  then  enter 
abruptly,  and  ask,  *'  Who  can  tell  a  good  story  this 
morning  V*  and  hurry  us  off  without  a  moment's  de- 
lay, to  do  our  best  at  a  venture,  without  waiting  for 
instructions.  It  would  be  curious,  could  a  stranger 
from  the  **  wicked  world"  outside  the  Convent,  wit- 
ness such  a  scene.  One  of  the  nuns,  who  felt  in  a 
favourable  humour  to  undertake  the  proposed  task, 
would  step  promptly  forward,  and  signify  her  readi- 
ness in  the  usual  way,  by  a  knowing  wink  of  one 
aye,  and  a  slight  toss  of  the  head. 


OF  3CABXA  MONK. 


63 


<<  Well,  go  and  do  the  best  you  can/'  the  Superior 
would  say :  '*  and  all  the  rest  of  you  mind  and  swear 
to  it/'  The  latter  part  of  the  order,  at  least,  was  al 
\7ays  performed  ;  for  in  every  case,  all  the  nuns 
present  appeared  as  unanimous  witnesses  of  every- 
thing that  was  uttered  by  the  spokeswoman  of  the 

day. 

We  were  constantlv  heanng  it  repeated,  that  we 
must  never  again  look  upon  ourselves  as  our  own  ; 
but  must  remember,  that  we  were  solely  and  irrevo- 
cably devoted  to  God.  Whatever  was  required  of 
us,  we  were  called  upon  to  yield  under  the  most  so- 
lemn considerations.  I  cannot  speak  on  every  par- 
ticular with  equal  freedom :  but  I  wish  my  readers 
clearly  to  understand  the  condition  in  which  we 
were  placed,  and  the  means  used  to  reduce  us  to 
what  we  had  to  submit  to.  Not  only  were  we  re- 
quired to  perform  the  several  tasks  imposed  upon  us 
at  work,  prayers,  and  penances,  under  the  idea  that 
we  were  performing  solemn  duties  to  our  Maker,  but 
everything  else  which  was  required  of  us,  we  were 
censtautly  told,  was  something  indispensable  in  his 
sight.  The  priests,  we  admitted,  were  the  servants 
of  God,  especially  appointed  by  his  authority,  to 
teach  us  our  dutjr,  to  absolve  us  from  sin,  and  lead 
us  to  heaven.  Without  their  assistance,  we  had  al- 
lowed we  could  never  enjoy  the  favour  of  God ;  un- 
less they  administered  the  sacrament  to  us,  we  could 
not  en  j oy  everlasting  happiness.  Having  con sented 
to  acknowledge  all  this,  we  had  no  objection  to  urge 
against  admitting  any  other  demand  that  might  be 
made  for  or  by  them.  If  we  thought  an  act  ever  so 
criminal,  the  Superior  would  tell  us  that  the  priests 
acted  under  the  direct  sanction  of  God,  and  could 
Mt  sin.  Of  course,  then,  it  could  not  be  wrone  to 
comply  with  anv  of  their  requests,  because  they 
could  not  demand  anything  but  what  was  right.  On 
the  contrary,  to  refuse  to  do  anything  they  asked 
would  necessarily  be  sinful.    Such  doctrines  admit- 


fctrp^.  ,>,. 


J-^ 


*      t! 


;J  • 


14^ 


2. 


.  "!  „ 

;  ■  1.. 

t 
t  i 


54 


AWFUL  DI80L0SUBBS 


tod»  and  snoh  practices  performed,  it  will  not  geem 
wonderful  when  I  meutiou  that  we  often  felt  some* 
thin^  of  their  preposterous  character. 

Sometimes  we  took  pleasure  in  ridiculing  some  of 
the  favourite  themes  of  our  teachers ;  and  I  recollect 
one  subject  particularly,  which  at  one  period  afforded 
us  repeated  merriment.  It  may  seem  irreverent  in 
me  to  give  the  account^  but  I  do  it  to  show  how 
things  of  a  solemn  nature  were  sometimes  treated  in 
the  couveut,  by  women  bearing  the  title  of  saints. 
A  Canadian  novice,  who  spoke  very  broken  English, 
one  day  remarked  that  she  was  performing  some 
duty  ''for  the  God."  This  peculiar  expression  had 
somethiug  ridiculous  to  the  ears  of  some  of  us ;  and 
it  was  soon  repeated  again  and  again,  in  application 
to  various  ceremonies  which  we  had  to  petforra. 
Mad  Jane  Bay  seized  upon  it  with  avidity,  and  with 
her  aid  it  e^o^>  took  the  place  of  a  by- word  in  con- 
versation, 80  that  we  were  constantly  reminding  each 
other  that  we  were  doing  this  thing  and  that  thing, 
how  trifiiug  aud  unmeaning  soever,  **  for  the  God." 
Nor  did  we  stop  here ;  when  the  Superior  called  upon 
us  to  bear  witness  to  one  of  her  religious  lies,  or  to 
fabricate  the  most  spurious  one  the  time  would  ad- 
mit ;  to  save  her  the  trouble,  we  were  sure  to  be  re- 
minded, on  our  way  to  the  stranger's  room,  that  we 
were  doing  it ''  for  the  God."  And  so  it  was  when 
other  things  were  mentioned— everything  which  be- 
longed to  our  condition  was  spoken  of  in  somewhat 
similar  terms. 

I  have  hardly  detained  the  reader  long  enough  on 
this  subject  to  give  him  a  just  impression  of  the 
stress  laid  on  confession.  It  is  one  of  the  great 
points  to  which  our  attention  was  constantly  direct- 
ed. Wo  were  directed  to  keep  a  strict  and  constant 
watch  over  our  thoughts ;  to  have  continually  before 
our  minds  the  rules  of  the  convent,  to  compare  the 
cue  with  the  other,  remember  ever^  devotion,  and 
tell  all,  even  the  smallest,  at  oonfession,  either  to  the 


OF  HABIA  MONK. 


5a 


Will  not  seem 
[ten  felt  tome. 

'"IJnff  some  of 
^na  I  recollect 

►onod  afforded 
'  irreverent  in 
0  show  how 
nes  treated  in 
;itle  of  saints. 

J)kenEngli8L 
rorming  some 
spresaion  had 
eofus;  and 
n  application 
to  perform. 
i«y,  and  with 
word  in  con. 
minding  each 
;d  that  thing, 
for  the  God;" 
r  called  upon 
us  lies,  or  to 
»e  would  ad- 
ure  to  be  re- 
>oin,  that  we 
^fc  Was  when 
^g  which  be- 
u  somewhat 

r  enough  on 
'siou  of  the 
t  the  great 
titly  direct- 
id  constant 
lally  before 
ompare  the 
rotiouy  and 
ithertotbo 


Superior  or  to  the  priest.  My  miud  was  tbns  kept 
in  a  continnal  state  of  activity,  which  proved  very 
wearisome ;  and  it  required  the  constant  exertion  of 
our  teachers  to  keep  us  up  to  the  practice  they  in- 
culcated. 

Another  tale  recurs  to  me,  of  those  which  were 
frequently  told  us,  to  make  us  feel  the  importance 
of  unreserved  confession. 

A  nun  of  our  convent,  who  had  hidden  some  sin 
from  her  confessor,  died  suddenly,  and  without  any 
one  to  confess  her.  Her  sisters  assembled  to  pray 
for  the  peace  of  her  soul,  when  she  appeared,  and 
informed  them  that  it  would  be  of  no  use,  but  ra- 
ther troublesome  to  her,  as  her  pardon  was  impos- 
sible. The  doctrine  is,  that  prayers  made  for  souls 
f^uilty  of  unconfessed  sin,  do  but  sink  them  deeper 
in  hell ;  and  this  is  the  reason  I  have  heard  given 
for  not  praying  for  Protestants. 

The  authority  of  the  priests  in  everything,  and 
the  enormity  of  every  act  which  opposes  it,  were  al- 
FO  impressed  upon  our  minds,  in  various  ways,  by 
our  teachers.  A  "  Father"  told  us  the  following 
story  one  day  at  catechism. 

A  man  once  diad  who  had  failed  to  pay  some 
money  which  the  priest  had  asked  of  him ;  he  was 
condemned  to  be  burnt  in  purgatory  until  he  should 
pay  it,  but  had  permission  to  come  back  to  this 
world,  and  take  a  human  body  to  work  in.  He  mf  d'' 
his  appearance,  therefore,  again  on  earth,  and  hired 
himself  to  a  rich  man  as  a  labourer.  He  worked 
all  day,  with  the  fire  working  in  him,  unseen  by 
other  people ;  but  while  he  was  in  bed  that  night,  a 
girl  in  an  adjoining  room,  perceiving  the  smell  of 
brimstone,  looked  through  a  crack  in  the  wall,  and 
saw  him  covered  with  flames.  She  informed  his 
master,  who  questioned  him  the  next  morning,  and 
found  that  his  hired  man  was  secretly  suffering  the 
pains  of  purgatory,  for  neglecting  to  pay  a  certain 
sum  of  money  to  tne  priest.  He,  therefore,  furnished 


■1 


!  ii 


%■■ 


!    i! 


P>l 


1- 


56 


AWFUL  DISCLOSUBES 


him  with  the  amount  due ;  it  was  paid,  and  the  set. 
vant  went  off  immediately  to  heaven.  The  priest 
cannot  forgive  any  debt  due  unto  him,  because  it  is 
the  Lord's  estate. 

While  at  confession)  t  was  urged  to  hide  no- 
thing from  the  priests,  and  have  been  told  by  then, 
that  they  already  knew  what  was  iu  my  heart,  but 
would  not  tell,  because  it  necessary  for  me  to  con- 
fess it.  I  really  believed  that  the  priests  were  ac- 
quainted with  my  thoughts ;  and  often  stood  in  awe 
of  them.  They  of  ten  told  me,  they  had  power  to 
strike  me  dead  at  anv  moment. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Nuns  with  similar  names— Squaw  uuns— First  visit  to  the 
cellar — Description  of  it— Shocking  discovery  there- 
Superior's  instructioTis— Private  signal  of  the  priests- 
Books  used  in  the  Nunnery — Opinions  expressed  of  the 
Bible — Specimens  of  what  I  know  of  the  Scriptures. 

I  FOUND  that  I  had  several  namesakes  among  the 
nuns,  for  there  were  two  others  who  had  already 
borne  away  my  new  name,  Saint  Eustace.  This 
was  not  a  solitary  case,  for  there  were  five  Saiot 
Marys,  and  three  Saint  Monros,  besides  two  novices 
of  that  name.  Of  my  namesakes,  I  have  little  to 
say,  for  they  resembled  most  nuns ;  being  so  much 
cut  off  from  intercourse  with  me  andother  sisters, 
that  I  ne^er  saw  anything  in  them,  nor  learnt  any- 
thing about  them,  worth  mentioning. 

Several  of  my  new  companions  were  squaws,  who 
had  taken  the  veil  at  different  times.  They  were 
from  some  of  the  Indian  settlements  in  the  country, 
but  were  not  distinguishable  by  any  striking  hahits 
of  character  from  other  nuns,  and  were  generally 
not  very  different  in  their  appearance  when  in  their 
usual  dress,  and  engaged  in  their  customary  occu- 
pations. It  was  evident  they  were  treated  with  much 
kindness  and  lenity  by  the  Superior  and  the  old 
nuns ;  and  this  I  discovered  was  done  in  order  to 


OF  llABIA  HONK. 


57 


render  them  as  well  contented  and  happy  in  their 
sitaations  as  possible :  and  should  have  attributed 
the  motives  for  this  partiality  to  their  wishing,  that 
they  mi^ht  not  influence  others  to  keep  away,  had  I 
not  known  they  were,  like  ourselves,  unable  to  exert 
such  an  influence.  And  therefore,  I  could  not  satis- 
fy my  own  mind  why  this  difference  was  made. 
Many  of  the  Indians  were  remarkably  devoted  to 
the  priests,  believing  everything  they  were  taught ; 
and  as  it  is  represented  to  be  not  only  a  high  honour, 
but  a  real  advantage  to  a  family,  to  have  one  of  its 
members  become  a  nun,  Indian  parents  will  often 
pay  large  sums  of  money  for  the  admission  of  their 
daughters  into  a  convent.  The  father  of  one  of  the 
squaws,  I  was  told,  paid  to  the  Superior  nearly  her 
weight  in  silver  on  her  reception,  although  he  was 
lobliged  to  sell  nearly  all  his  property  to  raise  the 
Imoney.  This  he  did  voluntarily,  because  he  thought 
[himself  overpaid  by  having  the  advantage  of  her 
jprayers,  self-sacrifices,  &c.,  for  himself  and  the  re- 
[inainder  of  his  family.  The  squaws  sometimes  serv- 
led  to  amuse  us ;  for  when  we  were  partially  dispirit- 
ed or  gloomy,  the  Superior  would  occasionally  send 
them  to  dress  themselves  in  their  Indian  garments, 
which  usually  excited  us  to  merriment. 

Among  the  squaw  nuns  whom  I  piurticularly  re- 
member, was  one  of  the  Saint  Hypolites,  not  the  one 
Iwho  figured  in  a  dreadful  scene,  described  in  another 
Ipart  of  this  narrative,  but  a  woman  of  a  far  more 
|mild  and  humane  character. 

Three  or  four  days  after  my  reception,  the  Superior 
Isent  me  into  the  cellar  for  coals  ;  and  after  she  had 
Igiyen  me  directions,  I  proceeded  down  a  staircase 
iwith  a  lamp  in  my  hand.  I  soon  found  myself  on 
Ithebare  earth  in  a  spacious  place,  so  dark  that  I 
jcould  not  at  once  distinguish  its  form  or  size,  but! 
lobserved  that  it  had  very  solid  stone  walls,  and  was 
arched  overhead,  at  no  great  elevation.  Following 
my  directions,  I  proceeded  onwards  from  the  foot  of 


#«'  \\r.t' 


Mf^^ 


!;!  1 


58 


AWFUL  BISOItOSrniBS 


I'i^' 


Jill: 


1.  < 


f -.  1 


t', r-    t 


;^i     .  1"' 


SI,  if  4"^ 


the  itairs,  where  appeared  to  be  one  end  of  the 
lar.  After  walkiug  about  fifteen  paces,  I  passed 
three  small  doors,  on  the  right,  fastened  with  large 
iron  bolts  on  the  outside,  pushed  into  posts  of  &tone 
work,  and  each  having  a  small  opening  above,  cover- 
ed with  a  fine  grating,  secured  by  a  smaller  holt. 
On  my  left  were  three  similar  doors,  x<>semhliug 
these,  and  placed  opposite  them. 

Beyond  these,  the  space  became  broader ;  the  doors 
evidently  closed  small  compartments,  projectiD^ 
from  the  outer  wall  of  the  cellar.  I  soon  stepped 
upon  a  wooden  floor,  on  which  were  heaps  of  wool, 
coarse  linen,  and  other  articles,  apparently  deposit- 
ed there  for  occasional  use.  I  soon  crossed  the  floor, 
and  found  the  bare  earth  again  under  my  feet. 

A  little  further  on,  I  found  the  cellar  again  con- 
tracted in  size  by  a  row  of  closets,  or  smaller  com- 
partments, projecting  on  each  side.  These  were 
closed  by  doors  of  a  different  description  from  the 
first,  having  a  simple  fastening,  and  no  opening 
through  them. 

•Just  beyond,  on  the  left  side,  I  passed  a  staircase 
leading  up,  and  theu  three  doors,  much  resembliug 
those  first  described,  standing  opposite  three  more, 
on  the  other  side  of  the  cellar.  Having  passed  these, 
I  found  the  cellar  enlarged  as  before,  and  here  the 
earth  appeared  as  if  mixed  with  some  whitish  sab- 
stance,  which  attracted  my  attention. 

As  I  proceeded,  I  found  the  whiteness  increase, 
until  the  surface  looked  almost  like  snow,  and  in  a 
short  time  I  observed  before  me,  a  hole  du<?  so  deep 
into  the  earth  that  I  could  perceive  no  bottom.  I 
stopped  to  observe  it— it  was  circular,  twelve  or  per- 
haps fifteen  feet  across,  in  the  middle  of  tho  cellar, 
and  unprotected  by  any  kind  of  curb,  so  that  one 
might  easily  have  walked  into  it  in  the  dark. 

The  white  substance  which  I  have  observed,  was 
spread  all  over  the  surface  around  it ;  and  lay  in  the 
quantities  on  all  sides,  that  it  seemed  as  if  a  ^eat 


09  ICABXA  HOmC. 


09 


deal  of  it  malt  haye  been  thrown  into  the  hole.  It 
I  immediately  occurred  to  me  that  the  white  sabstance 
I  wai  lime,  and  that  was  the  place  where  the  infants 
were  buried,  after  being  murdered,  as  the  Superior 
had  informed  me.  I  knew  that  lime  is  often  used 
I  by  !E^man  Catholics  in  burning  places ;  and  in  that 
way  I  accounted  for  its  being  scattered  about  the 
I  spot  in  such  quantities. 

I  This  was  a  shocking  thought  to  me ;  but  I  can 
hardly  tell  how  it  affected  roe,  as  I  had  already  been 
prepared  to  expect  dreadful  things  in  the  Convent, 
and  bad  undergone  trials  which  prevented  me  from 
feeling  as  I  should  formerly  have  done  iu  similar  oir- 
I  cumstauces. 

I  passed  the  spot,  therefore,  with  dreadful  thoughts, 
I  it  is  true,  about  the  little  corpses  which  mi^ht  be  in 
I  that  secret  burying  place,  but  with  recollections  also 
I  of  the  declarations  which  I  had  heard,  about  the  fa« 
vour  done  their  souls  iu  sending  them  direct  to  hea- 
ven, and  the  necessary  virtue  accompanying  all  the 
actions  of  the  priests. 

Whether  I  noticed  them  or  not  at  the  time,  there 
lis  a  window  or  two  on  each  side  nearly  agaiuat  the 
hole,  in  at  which  are  sometimes  thrown  articles 
brought  to  them  from  without,  for  the  use  of  the 
Convent.  Through' the  window  on  my  right,  which 
opens  into  the  yard,  towards  the  cross  street,  lime  is 
received  from  carts ;  I  then  saw  a  large  heap  of  it 
near  the  place. 

Passing  the  hole,  I  came  to  a  spot  where  was  ano- 
ther ))rojection  on  each  side,  with  three  cells  like 
those  I  first  described.  Beyond  them,  in  another 
broad  part  of  the  cellar,  were  heaps  of  vegetables, 
and  other  things,  on  the  right ;  and  on  the  left,  I 
found  the  charcoal  I  was  in  search  of.  This  was 
placed  in  a  heap  against  the  wall,  as  I  might  then 
have  observed,  near  a  small  high  window,  like  the 
rest,  at  which  it  is  thrown  in.  Beyond  this  spot, 
at  a  distance,  the  cellar  terminated. 


60 


AWFUL  BZSOLOdXTBBS 


>t^'- 


L    lU 


i    1 


'      ii 


The  top,  quite  to  that  point,  is  arched  OTorhead, 
though  at  differeut  heights,  for  the  earth  on  the  bod 
torn  IS  uneven,  and  in  some  places  several  feet  higher 
than  in  others. 

Not  liking  to  be  alone  in  so  spacious  and  gloomy 
a  part  of  the  Convent,  especially  after  the  discovery 
I  had  made,  I  hastened  to  fill  my  basket  with  coal, 
and  to  return. 

Here  then  I  was  in  a  place  which  I  had  consider* 
ed  as  the  nearest  imitation  of  heaven  to  be  found  on 
earth,  amongst  a  society  where  deeds  were  constant* 
ly  perpetrated,  which  I  had  believed  to  be  most  cri* 
minal,  and  had  now  found  the  place  in  which  harm* 
less  infants  were  unfeelingly  thrown  out  of  sight, 
after  being  murdered. 

And  yet,  such  is  the  power  of  instruction  and  ex. 
ample,  although  not  satisfied,  as  many  around  me 
seemed  to  be,  that  this  was  all  righteous  aud  proper, 
I  sometimes  was  half  inclined  to  believe  it,  for  the 
priests  could  do  no  sin,  and  this  was  done  by  priests. 

Among  the  first  instructions  1  received  from  the 
Superior,  were  such  as  prepared  me  to  admit  priests 
into  the  nunnery,  from  the  street,  at  irregular  hours. 
It  is  no  secret  that  priests  enter  and  go  out;  but  if 
they  were  to  be  watched  by  anjr  person  in  St.  Paul's 
street  all  day  long,  no  irregularity  might  be  suspect- 
ed ;  and  they  might  be  supposed  to  visit  the  Gonveot 
for  the  performance  of  religious  ceremonies  merely. 

But  if  a  person  were  near  the  gate  about  midnight, 
he  might  sometimes  form  a  differeut  opinion ;  for 
when  a  stray  priest  is  shut  out  of  the  Seminary,  or 
is  otherwise  put  in  the  need  of  seeking  a  lodging,  he 
is  always  sure  of  being  admitted  into  the  Black  Nuo* 
uery.  Nobody  but  a  priest  can  ever  ring  the  bell  at 
the  sick-room  door ;  much  less  can  any  but  a  priest 
gain  admittance.  The  pull  of  the  bell  is  entirely 
concealed,  somewhere  on  the  outside  of  the  gate,  I 
have  been  told. 

He  makes  himself  known  as  a  priest  by  a  peculiar 


OF  ^TABIA  VONK. 


«t 


^iud  of  hissing  souud,  made  by  the  tongue  agaiuRt 
ho  teeth  while  they  are  kept  closed  and  the  lips  opeu. 
.2he  nun  Trithin^  who  delays  to  open  the  door  until 
poformed  what  kind  of  an  applicant  is  there,  imme« 
Idiately  recognizes  the  signal,  and  replies  with  two 
liaarticulate  sounds,  such  as  are  often  used  instead 
lof  yes,  with  the  mouth  closed. 

The  Superior  seemed  to  consider  this  part  of  my 
i^istructions  quite  important,  and  taught  me  the  sig« 
Inals.  I  had  oiten  occasion  to  use  them  ;  I  have  been 
Irepeatedl^  called  to  the  door,  in  the  night,  while 
Iwatching  in  the  sick-room ;  and  on  reaching  it,  heard 
[the  short  hissing  sound  I  have  mentioned ;  then,  ac- 
3rding  to  my  standing  orders,  unfastened  the  door, 
Jmitted  a  priest,  who  was  at  liberty  to  go  where  he 
)leased.    I  will  name  M.  Bierze,  from  St.  Denis. 
The  books  used  in  the  nunnery,  at  least  such  as  I 
jcoUeot  of  them,  were  the  following.  Most  of  these 
ire  lecture  books,  or  such  as  are  used  by  the  daily 
readers,  while  we  were  at  work  and  meals.    These 
i^ere  all  furnished  by  the  Superior,  out  of  her  li- 
brary, to  which  we  never  had  access.    She  was  in- 
formed when  we  had  done  with  the  book,  and  then 
Echanged  it  for  another,  as  she  pleased  to  select. 
La  Miroirdu  Chretien  (Christian  Mirror,)  History 
}f  Bome,  History  of  the  Church,  Life  of  Soeur  Bour- 
?eoise,  (the  founder  of  the  Convent,)  in  two  volumes, 


volume  consisting  of  conversations  between  a  Pro- 
3Btant  Doctor,  called  Dr.  D.,  and  a  Catholic  gentle- 
lan,  on  the  articles  of  faith,  in  which,  after  much 
igenious  reasoning,  the  former  was  confuted  ;  one 
irg*)  book,  the  name  of  which  I  have  forgotten,  oo- 
Bupied  us  nine  or  ten  months  at  our  lectures,  night 
jnd  morning,  L'Instruction  de  la  Jeunesse,  (the  In- 
rtruction  of  Youth,)  containing  much  about  Con- 
rents,  and  the  education  of  persons  in  the  world. 


ii  ! 


62 


AWFUL  BISOtiOStTBES 


hi 


i5-J.; 


V 


4 


ifii 


ralC' 


I  i 


^^■" 


L*t 


11'- 


ip 


with  a  great  rleal  on  confessions,  &c.      Examen 
Cousoience  (Examination  of  Conscience,)  is  a  book 
frequently  used. 

I  may  here  remark,  that  I  neyer  saw  a  Bible  in  the 
Ck)nvent  from  the  day  I  entered  as  a  novice,  until 
that  on  which  I  effected  my  escape.  The  Catholic 
New  Testament,  commonly  called  the  Evangile,  was 
read  to  us  ahout  three  or  four  times  a  year.  The 
Superior  directed  the  reader  what  passage  to  select* 
but  we  never  had  it  in  our  hands  to  read  when  we 
pleased.  I  often  heard  the  Protestant  Bible  spoken 
of,  in  bitter  terms,  as  a  most  dangerous  book,  and 
one  which  never  ought  to  be  in  the  hands  of  common 
people. 

CHAPTER  X. 

Manufacture  of  bread  and  wax  candles,  carried  on  in  the 
Convent — Superstitions — Scapularies — Virgin  Mary's 
Pincushion — Her  House— The  Bishop's  power  overfiro 
— My  instructions  to  Kovices— Jane  Bay— Vacillation 
of  feelings. 

Labge  quantities  of  bread  are  inade  in  the  Black 
Nunnery  every  week ;  for,  besides  what  is  neces* 
sary  to  feed  the  nuns,  many  of  the  poor  are  sup- 
plied. When  a  priest  wishes  to  give  a  loaf  of 
bread  to  a  poor  person,  he  gives  him  an  order,  which 
is  presented  at  the  Convent.  The  making  of  hread 
is,  therefore,  one  of  the  most  laborious  employments 
in  the  institution. 

The  manufacture  of  wax  candles  was  another  im- 
portant branch  of  business  in  the  nunnery.  It  was 
carried  on  in  a  small  room,  on  the  first  floor,  thence 
called  the  ciergerie,  or  wax  room,  cierge  beiu^  the 
French  word  for  wax.  I  was  sometimes  eent  to 
read  the  daily  lecture  and  catechism  to  the  nuns  em< 
ployed  there,  but  found  it  a  very  unpleasant  task, 
as  the  smell  rising  from  the  melted  wax  gave  me  a 
siofcoess  at  the  stomach.  The  employment  wai  pon- 
sidered  as  rather  unhealthy,  and  those  were  assign* 


07  KAItIA  MONK. 


63 


'ed  to  it  who  had  the  strongest  constitutions.  The 
I  nuns  who  were  more  employed  in  that  room  were 
Samt  Maria,  Saint  Catherine,  Saint  Charlotte,  Saint 
Hyaciuthe,  Saint  Hypolite,  and  others.  But  with 
these,  as  with  other  persons  in  the  Convent,  I  was 
never  allowed  to  speak,  except  under  circumstances 
before  mentioned.  I  was  sent  to  read,  and  was  not 
allowed  even  to  answer  the  most  trivial  question,  if 
one  were  asked  me.  Should  a  nun  say,  "What 
o'clock  is  it  P"  I  never  should  have  dared  to  reply, 
[but  was  required  to  report  her  to  the  Superior. 

Much  stress  was  laid  on  the  sainte  scapulaire,  or 
I  holy  scapulary.  This  is  a  small  band  of  cloth  or 
silk,  formed  and  wrou^^ht  in  a  particular  manner,  to 
be  tied  around  the  neck,  by  two  strings,  fastened  to 
the  ends.  I  have  made  many  of  them ;  having  been 
sometimes  set  to  make  them  in  the  Convent.  On 
one  side  is  worked  a  kind  of  double  cross,  (thus, 
X  X,)  and  on  the  other,  I.  H.  S.,  the  meaning  of 
which  I  do  not  exactly  know.  Such  a  band  is  called 
la  scapulary,  and  many  miracles  are  attributed  to 
lits  power.  Children  on  first  receiving  the  commn- 
Iniou  are  often  presented  with  scapularies,  which 
they  are  taught  to  regard  with  great  reverence.  We 
Iwere  told  of  the  wonders  effected  by  their  means, 
linthe  addresses  that  were  made  to  us,  by  priests,  at 
Icatechism  or  lectures.  I  will  repeat  one  or  two  of 
I  the  stories  which  occur  to  me. 

A  Boman  Catholic  servant  woman,  who  had  con- 
Icealedsomeof  her  sins  at  confession,  acted  so  hy« 
pocritical  a  part  as  to  make  her  mistress  believe  her 
a  devotee^  or  strict  observer  of  her  duty.  She  even 
limposed  upon  her  confessor  to  such  a  degree  that 
Ihe  gave  her  a  scapulary.  After  he  had  given  it,  how- 
leyer,  one  of  the  saints  in  heaven  informed  him  in  a 
Ivision,  that  the  holy  scapulary  must  not  remain  on 
Ithe  neck  of  so  great  a  smner,  and  that  it  must  be 
restored  to  the  church.  She  hj  down  that  night 
with  the  scapulary  round  her  throat;  but  in  the 


iv. 


64 


AWFUL  DISCL0SX7BBS 


«  $'' ■•  it. 


mUlr 


'3 


1  .:■  ji-  ag'^ 


I 


morning  was  found  dead,  with  her  head  cut  off,  and 
the  scapulary  was  discovered  in  the  church. The  be< 
lief  was,  that  the  devil  could  not  endure  to  have  so 
holy  a  thing  on  one  of  his  servants,  and  had  pulled 
so  hard  to  get  it  off,  as  to  draw  the  silken  thre^ 
with  which  it  was  tied,  through  her  neck;  aftei 
which,  hy  some  divine  power,  it  was  restored  to  the  | 
church. 

Another  story  was  as  follows.  A  poor  Bomaal 
Catholic  was  once  taken  prisoner  by  the  heretics. 
He  had  a  sainte  scapidaire  on  his  neck,  when  God 
seeing  him  in  the  midst  of  his  foes,  took  it  from  tl ' 
neck  by  a  miracle,  and  held  it  up  in  the  air  abo^ 
the  throng  of  heretics ;  more  than  one  hundred  of  I 
whom  were  converted,  by  seeing  it  thus  supemaJ 
turally  suspended. 

I  had  been  informed  by  the  Superior,  on  my  first 
admissiou  as  a  nun,  that  there  was  a  subterraneous 
passage,  leading  from  the  cellar  of  our  Convent,  in- 
to that  of  the  Congregational  Nunnery :  but,  though 
I  had  so  often  visited  the  cellar,  I  had  never  seea 
it.    One  day,  after  I  had  been  received  three  or  four 
months,  I  was  sent  to  walk  through  it  on  my  knees, 
with  auother  nun,  as  a  penance.      This,  and  otherl 
penances,  were  sometimes  put  upon  us  by  the  priests,! 
without  any  reason  assigned^     The  common  way,! 
indeed,  was  to  tell  us  of  the  sin  for  which  a  penaDcej 
was  imposed,  but  we  were  left  many  times  to  con- 
jecture.   Now  and  then  the  priest  would  infoml 
us  at  a  subsequent  confession,  when  he  happened tol 
recollect  something  about  it,  as  I  thought,  and  uotl 
because  he  reflected  or  cared  much  upon  the  subjedl 

The  nun  who  was  with  me  led  through  the  cellar, 
passing  to  the  right  of  the  secret  burial-place,  and 
showed  me  the  door  of  the  subterraneous  passage, 
which  was  at  the  extremity  towards  the  Congrega* 
tional  Nunnery.  The  reasons  why  I  had  not  notic- 
ed it  before,  I  presume,  were,  that  it  was  made  to 
Bhut  close  and  even  with  the  wall :  and  all  that  part 


OF  SCJLBIA  icons:. 


6» 


)f  the  cellar  was  whitewashed.      The  door,  which 

_  of  wood,  and  square,  opens  with  a  latch  into  a 

mssage  about  fonr  feet  and  a  half  high.  We  imme- 

liately  got  u^on  our  knees,  commenced  saying  the 

)rayer8  required,  and  began  to  move  slowly  along 

the  dark  and  narrow  passage.  It  may  be  fifty  or 

sixty  feet  in  length.  When  we  reached  the  end,  we 

[)peDed  a  door,  and  found  ourselves  in  the  cellar  of 

the  Congregational  Nunnery,  at  some  distance  from 

the  outer  wall ;  for  the  covered  way  is  carried  on  to- 

rards  the  middle  of  the  cellar  by  two  low  partitions 

sovered  at  the  top.      By  the  side  of  the  door  was 

)laced  a  list  of  names  of  the  Black  Nuns,  with  a 

dde  that  might  be  drawn  over  any  of  them.    We 

sovered  our  names  in  this  manner,  as  evidence  of 

[haying  performed  the  duty  assigned  us ;  and  then 

Ireturued  downwards  on  our  knees,  by  the  way  we 

[had  come.      This  penance  I  repeatedly  performed 

[afterwards ;  avi    by  this  way,  as  I  have  occasion 

lelsewhereto  i.      i  ou,  nuns  from  the  Congregational 

Nunnery  sometimes  entered  our  Convent  for  worse 

ipurposes. 

I  We  were  frequently  assured  that  miracles  are  still 
performed ;  and  pains  were  taken  to  impress  us  deep- 
ly on  this  subject.  The  Superior  often  spoke  to  us 
of  the  Virgin  Mary's  pincushion,  the  remains  of  which 
are  pretended  to  be  preserved  in  the  Convent,  though 
it  has  crumbled  quite''to  dust.  We  regarded  this 
relic  with  such  veneration,  that  we  were  afraid  even 
to  look  at  it,  and  we  often  heard  the  following  story 
related,  when  the  subject  was  introduced. 
I  A  priest  in  Jerusalem  once  had  a  vision,  in  which 
I  he  was  informed  that  the  house  in  which  the  Vir- 
I  gin  had  lived,  should  be  removed  from  its  founda- 
tions, and  transported  to  a  distance.  He  did  not 
think  the  communication  was  from  God,  and  there- 
Ifore  disregarded  it ;  but  the  house  was  soon  after 
missed,  which  convinced  him  that  the  vision  waf* 
jbne,  and  he  told  where  the  house  might  be  found. 
•'  174  Q 


U)  V 


I." 


66 


AWFUL  DIS0L0SUBB9 


A  picture  of  the  house  is  preserved  in  the  Nunneij, 
and  was  sometimes  shown  us.  There  was  also  wax 
figures  of  Joseph  sawing  wood,  and  Jesus,  as  a 
child,  picking  up  the  chips.  We  were  taught  io 
singalittle  song  relating  to  this,  the  choras  oil 
which  I  rememher : 

"  Saint  Joseph  Carpentier, 
Petit  Jesus  ramassait  les  copeaux 
Pour  faire  houillir  la  marmite !" 
(St.  Joseph  was  a  carpenter,  little  Jesus  collected! 
chips  to  make  the  pot  hoil.) 

I  began  to  speak  of  miracles,  and  I  recollect  a  story 
of  one,  about  a  family  in  Italy  saved  from  shipwreck 
by  a  priest,  who  were  in  consequence  converted,  and 
had  two  sons  honoured  with  the  priest's  office. 

I  had  heard,  before  I  entered  the  Convent,  about 
a  great  fire  which  had  destroyed  a  number  of  houses 
in  the  Quebec  suburbs,  and  which  some  said  the 
Bishop  extinguished  with  holy  water.  I  once  heard  | 
a  Catholic  and  a  Protestant  disputing  on  this  sub* 
ject,  and  when  I  went  to  the  Congregational  Nun. 
nery,  I  sometimes  heard  the  children,  alludinvtol 
the  same  story,  say,  at  an  alarm  of  fire,  ^^Isita 
Cp^tholic  fire  P  Then  why  does  not  the  Bishop  run  P' 

Among  the  topics  on  which  the  Bishop  addressed 
the  nuns  in  the  Convent,  this  was  one.  He  told  ns 
the  story  one  day,  that  he  could  have  sooner  inter* 
fered  and  stopped  the  flames,  but  that  at  last,  find- 
ing they  were  about  to  destroy  too  many  Gath()Iie 
houses,  he  threw  holy  water  on  the  fire,  and  extin- 

fuished  it.    I  believed  this,  and  also  thought  tbat 
e  was  able  to  put  out  any  fire,  but  that  he  neyer 
did  it  except  when  inspired. 

The  holv  water  which  the  Bishop  has  consecrated, 
was  oonsidered  much  more  efficacious  than  any  bles- 
sed by  a  common  priest ;  and  this  it  was  which  was 
used  in  the  Convent  in  sprinkling  our  beds.  Itbai 
a  virtue  in  it,  to  keep  off  any  evil  spirit. 
Now  that  I  was  a  nuD«  I  was  oocasionally  sent  to 


Of  UABU  itatK. 


67 


read  lectures  to  the  novices,  as  other  nuns  had  been 
while  I  was  a  novice.  There  were  but  few  of  us 
who  were  thought  capable  of  reading  English  well 
lenough)  and,  therefore,  I  was  more  frequently  sent 
than  I  might  otherwise  have  been.  The  Superior 
I  often  said  to  me,  as  I  was  going  amonjr  the  novices : 
I  **  Try  to  convert  them— save  theur  souls — you 
know  you  will  have  a  higher  place  in  heaven  for 
every  one  you  '  anvert." 

For  whatever  reason,  Mad  Jane  Bay  seemed  to 
take  great  delight  in  crossing  and  provoking  the  Su- 
perior and  old  nuns ;  and  often  she  would  cause  an 
interruption  when  it  was  most  inconvenient  and 
displeasing  to  them.      The  preservation  of  silence 
I  was  insisted  upon  most  rigidly,  and  penances  of 
such  a  nature  were  imposed  for  breakiupr  it,  that  it 
was  a  constant  source  of  uneasiness  with  me,  to 
know  that  I  might  infringe  the  rules  in  so  many  ways, 
and  that  inattention  might  at  any  moment  subject 
me  to  something  very  unpleasant.     During  the  pe- 
'riods  of  meditation,  therefore,  and  those  of  lecture, 
work,  and  repose,  I  kept  a  strict  guard  upon  my- 
I  self,  to  escape  penances,  as  well  as  to  avoid  sin ;  and 
the  silence  of  the  others  convinced  me  that  they 
were  equally  watchful,  and  from  the  same  motives. 
My  feelings,  however,  varied  at  different  times, 
and  80  did  those  of  many,  if  not  of  all  my  compani* 
I  ons,  excepting  the  older  ones,  who  took  their  turns 
in  watchmg  us.      We  sometimes  felt  disposed  for 
gaiety,  and  threw  off  all  idea  that  talking  was  sin- 
ful, even  when  required  by  the  rules  of  the  Convent. 
I  even,  when  I  felt  that  I  might  perhaps  be  doing 
wrong,  reflected  that  confession,  and  certainly  yen- 
anoe,  would  soon  wipe  off  the  guilt. 

I  may  remark  here,  that  I  ere  long  found  out  sev- 
eral things  important  to  be  known  to  a  person  living 
under  such  rules.  One  of  these  was,  that  it  was 
much  better  to  confess  to  a  priest  a  sin  committed 
against  the  rules,  because  he  would  not  require  one 


I  id 


\  : 


i 


i: 


=  i  .' 


id;  ■ 


ii    - 


1'.  - 


68 


AWFUL  DISCLOSrmiES 


of  the  penances  I  most  disliked,  viz.,  those  which  ex« 
posed  me  to  the  observation  of  the  nuns,  or  which 
demanded  solf-debasement  before  them,  like  beggiDg 
their  pardon,  kissing  the  floor,  or  the  Superior's  feet 
&c.,  and,  besides,  he  as  a  confessor  was  bound  tose* 
crecy,  and  could  not  inform  tl.e  Superior  agaiustme, 
My  conscience  being  as  effectually  unburdeued  by 
ray  confession  to  the  priest,  as  I  had  been  taught  to 
believe,  I  therefore  preferred  not  to  tell  my  sins  to 
any  one  else ;  and  this  course  I  found  was  prefened 
by  others  for  the  same  good  reasons. 

To  Jane  Ray,  however,  it  sometimes  appeared  to 
be  a  matter  of  perfect  indifference,  who  knew  her  vio< 
lationsof  rule,  to  what  peuruce  she  exposed  herseU. 

Often  and  often,  while  perfect  silence  i)revailed 
among  the  nuns,  at  meditation,  or  while  nothing  was 
to  be  heard  except  the  voice  of  the  reader  appointed 
for  the  day,  no  matter  whose  life  or  writin}»s  were 
presented  for  our  contemplation,  Jane  would  break 
forth  with  some  remark  or  question,  that  would  at* 
tract  gereral  attention,  and  often  cause  a  long  and 
total  interruption.  Sometimes  she  would  make  some 
harmless  remark  or  inauiry  aloud,  as  if  through 
mere  inadvertency,  and  then  her  loud  and  well  knownj 
voice,  so  strongly  associated  with  every  thing  singu- 
lar and  ridiculous,  would  arrest  the  attention  of  ml 
all,  and  generally  incline  us  to  laugh.  The  Superior 
would  then  usually  utter  some  hasty  remoustrance, 
and  many  a  time  I  have  heard  her  pronounce  some 
penance  upon  her;  but  Jane  had  some  apoloofy  ready, 
or  some  reply  calculated  to  irritate  still  further,  oi 
to  prove  to  every  one  that  no  punishment  would  be 
effectual  on  her.  Sometimes  this  singular  woman 
would  appear  to  be  actuated  by  opposite  feelings 
and  motives ;  for  although  she  usually  delififhted  in 
drawing  others  into  difficulty,  and  has  thrown  many 
a  severe  penance  even  upon  her  greatest  favouritei| 
on  other  occasions  she  appeared  totally  regardless  of  | 
oonsequences  herself,  and  preferred  to  take  ill  tf 
blame,  anxious  only  to  shield  oihers. 


07  MABUL  HONZ. 


CO 


I  have  repeatedly  known  her  to  break  ailenoe  in 
I  the  community,  as  if  she  had  no  object,  or  none  be* 
yond  that  of  causing  disturbance,  or  exciting  a  smile, 
and  as  soon  as  it  was  noticed,  exclaim,  *'  Say  it's  me, 
gay  it's  me  I" 

Sometimes  she  would  cyen  expose  herself  to  pun- 
ishment in  place  of  another  who  was  guilty;  and 
thus  I  found  it  difficult  fully  to  uuderstuud  her.  In 
some  cases  she  seemed  decidedly  out  of  her  wits,  as 
the  Superior  and  priests  commonly  preferred  to  re- 
present her ;  but  generally  I  saw  in  her  what  pre- 
vented me  from  accounting  her  insane. 

Among  her  common  tricks  were  such  as  these ;  she 
gave  me  the  name  of  the  '*  Devout  English  Eeader," 
because  I  was  often  appointed  to  read  the  lecture  to 
the  English  girls;  and  sometimes,  after  taking  a 
seat  near  me,  under  pretence  of  deafness,  would 
whisper  it  in  my  heariug,  because  she  knew  my  want 
of  self-command  when  excited  to  laughter.  Thus 
she  often  exposed  me  to  penances  for  a  breach  of  de- 
corum, and  set  me  to  biting  my  lips,  to  avoid  laugh- 
ing outright  in  the  midst  of  a  solemn  lecture.  "  Oh  ! 
you  devout  English  reader  !'*  would  sometimes  come 
upon  me  suddenly  from  her  lips,  with  something  in 
it  so  ludicrous,  that  I  had  to  exert  myself  to  the  ut- 
most to  avoid  observation. 

This  came  so  often  at  one  time,  that  I  grew  un- 
easy, and  told  her  I  must  confess  it,  to  unburden  my 
conscience.  I  had  not  done  so  before,  because  she 
would  complain  of  me,  for  giving  way  to  temptation. 

Sometimes  she  would  pass  behind  us  as  we  stood 
at  dinner  ready  to  sit  down,  and  softly  moving  back 
our  chairs,  leave  us  to  fall  down  upon  the  floor.  This 
she  has  repeatedly  done ;  and  while  we  were  laugh- 
ing together,  she  would  spring  forward,  kneel  to  tl.o 
Superior,  and  beg  her  pardou  and  a  penauce. 


1  \*' 


;W    '  ' 


li: 


TO 


▲WFUL  DIS0L0SURB8 


CHAPTER  XI. 


Alarming  order  from  the  Superior— Proceed  to  execute  it« 
Scene  in  an  upper  room—Sentence  of  death,  and  mur. 
der— My  own  distress— Reports  made  to  liiends  of  St 
Frances. 

But  I  must  now  come  to  one  deed  in  which  I  had 
some  part,  and  which  I  look  back  upon  with  greater 
horror  and  pain  than  any  occurrenctis  in  the  Couvent, 
in  which  I  was  not  the  principal  sufferer.    It  is  not 
necessary  for  me  to  attempt  to  excuse  myself  in  this 
or  any  other  case.    Those  who  have  any  disposition 
to  judge  fairly,  will  exercise  their  own  judgment  in 
maidng  allowances  for  me,  under  the  fear  and  force, 
the  command  and  examples,  before  me.  I,  therefore, 
shall  coufine  myself,  as  usual,  to  the  simple  narration 
of  facts.    The  time  was  about  five  months  after  I 
took  the  veil,  the  weather  was  cool,  perhaps  in  Sep- 
tember or  October.    One  day,  the  Superior  sent  for 
me  and  several  other  nuns,  to  receive  her  commands 
at  a  );articular  room.      We  found  the  Bishop  and 
some  priests  with  her  ;  and  speaking  in  an  unusual 
tone  of  fierceness  and  authority,  she  said,  **  Go  to 
the  room  for  the  Examination  of  Conscience,  and 
drag  St.  Frances  up  stairs."    Nothing  more  was  ne- 
cessary than  this  unusual  command,  with  the  tone 
and  manner  which  accomi)anied  it,  to  excite  in  me 
the  most  gloomy  anticipations.    It  did  not  strike  me 
as  strange  that  St.  Frances  should  be  in  the  room  to 
which  the  Superior  directed  us.  It  was  an  apartment 
to  which  we  were  often  sent  to  prepare  for  the  com- 
munion, and  to  which  we  voluntarily  went,  when- 
ever we  felt  the  compunctions  which  our  ignorance 
of  duty,  and  the  misinstructions  we  received,  inclin- 
ed us  to  seek  relief  from  self-reproach.      Indeed  I 
had  seen  her  there  a  little  before.     What  terrified 
me  was,  first,  the  Superior's  angry  manner  ;  second, 
the  expression  she  used,  being  a  French  term,  whose 
peculiar  use  I  had  learnt  in  ttbe  Convent,  ana  whose 
meaning  is  rathei:  softened  when  translated  into 


OF  HABIA  XONK. 


71 


10  to  fiienda  of  St 

in  which  I  had 
pon  with  greaS 

ff^^er-    It  is  no 
se  myself  in  this 

» any  disposition 
w^n  judgment  in 
8  fear  and  force, 
ne.  I,  therefore 
simple  narration 
months  after  I 
perhaps  in  Sep. 
f uperior  sent  for 

P^hercommands 
'he  Bishop  and 
sr  m  an  unnsaal 
?  said,  *«Goto 
'ODscience,  and 
ipr  more  was  ne- 
with  the  tone 
>  excite  in  me 
a  not  strike  me 
in  the  room  t() 
8  an  apartment 
^  for  the  com- 
y  went,  when- 
OVLV  ignorance 
ceived,  inchn. 
'h.      Indeed  I 
Vhat  terrified 
nner ;  second, 
El  term,  whose 
Qt,  and  whose 
ui3lated  into 


Idirag;  tluid,  the  place  to  which  we  were  directed  to 
take  the  interestine  young  nun,  and  the  penons  as- 
sembled there,  as  I  supposed,  to  condemn  her.  My 
fears  were  such,  concerning  the  fate  that  awaited 
her,  and  my  horror  at  the  idea  that  she  was  in  some 
'way  to  he  sacrificed,  that  I  would  have  given  any* 
thing  to  he  allowed  to  stay  where  I  was.  But  I 
I  feared  the  consequences  of  disobeying  the  Superior, 
and  proceeded  with  the  rest  towards  the  room  for  the 
examination  of  conscience. 

The  room  to  which  we  were  to  proceed  from  that, 
was  in  the  second  story,  and  the  place  of  many  a 
scene  of  a  shameful  nature.  It  is  sufficient  to  sav, 
after  what  I  have  said  in  other  parts  of  this  booK, 
that  things  had  there  occurred  which  made  me  re- 
gard the  place  with  the  greatest  disgust.  Saint 
Frances  had  appeared  melancholy  for  some  time.  I 
well  knew  that  she  had  cause,  for  she  had  been  re- 
peatedly subject  to  trials  which  I  need  not  name — 
our  common  lot.  When  we  reached  the  room  where 
we  had  been  bidden  to  seek  her,  I  entered  the  door, 
my  companions  standing  behind  me,  as  the  place 
was  so  small  as  hardly  to  hold  five  persons  at  a  time. 
The  young  nun  was  standing  alone,  near  the  middle 
of  the  room ;  she  was  probably  about  twenty,  with 
light  hair,  blue  eyes,  and  a  very  fair  complexion.  I 
spoke  to  her  in  a  compassionate  voice,  but  at  the 
same  time  with  such  a  decided  manner,  that  she  com* 
prehended  my  menning. 
"  Saint  Frances,  we  are  sent  for  you." 
Several  others  spoke  kindly  to  her,  but  two  ad- 
dressed her  very  harshly.  Tlie  poor  creature  turned 
round  with  a  look  of  meekness,  and  without  ex- 
pressing any  unwillingness  or  fear,  without  even 
speaking  a  word,  resigned  herself  to  our  hands.  The 
tears  came  into  my  eyes.  I  had  not  a  moment's 
doubt  that  she  considered  her  fate  as  sealed,  and  was 
already  beyond  the  lear  of  death.  She  was  conduct- 
ed or  rather  hurried  to  tho  staircase^  which  was  near 


72 


▲WFUL  DISOLOST7BB8 


-  ■  u 


r  ^  f 


'•I 


by,  and  then  seized  by  her  limbs  and  clothei)  and  k 
fact  almost  dragged  ud  stairs,  in  the  sense  the  So. 
perior  bad  intended.  I  laid  my  own  hands  upon  her 
—I  took  hold  of  her,  too,  more  gently  indeed  than 
some  of  the  rest ;  yet  I  encouraged  and  assisted  them 
in  carrying  her.  I  could  not  avoid  it.  My  refu8al 
would  not  have  saved  her,  nor  prevented  her  from 
being  carried  up ;  it  would  only  have  exposed  me  to 
some  severe  punishment,  as  I  believe  some  of  my 
companions  would  have  seized  the  first  opportunity 
to  complain  of  me. 

AH  the  way  up  the  staircase,  Saiut  Franc  )S  spoke 
not  a  word,  nor  made  the  slightest  resistance.  When 
we  entered,  with  her,  the  room  to  which  she  was  or- 
dered, my  heart  sank  within  me.  The  Bishop,  the 
Lady  Superior,  and  fivepriests,  viz. :  Bouin,Kichard8, 
Savage,  and  two  others,  I  now  ascertained,  were  as- 
sembled for  trial,  on  some  charge  of  great  importance. 

When  we  had  brought  our  prisoner  before  them, 
Father  Bichards  began  to  question  her,  and  she  made 
ready,  but  calm,  replies.  I  cannot  pretend  to  give 
a  connected  account  of  what  ensued ;  my  feelings 
were  wrought  up  to  such  a  pitch,  that  I  knew  not 
what  I  did,  or  what  to  do.  I  was  under  a  terrible 
apprehension  that,  if  I  betrayed  the  feelings  which 
overcame  me,  I  should  fall  under  the  displeasure  of 
the  cold-blooded  persecutors  of  my  poor  innocent 
sister ;  and  this  fear  on  the  one  hand,  with  the  dis- 
tress I  felt  for  her  on  the  other,  rendered  me  almost 
frantic.  As  soon  as  I  entered  the  room,  I  had  step- 
ped into  a  corner,  on  the  left  of  the  entrance,  wliere 
I  might  partially  support  myself  by  leaning  agaiust 
the  wall  between  the  door  and  the  wiudow.  This 
support  was  all  that  prevented  me  falling  to  the  floor, 
for  the  confusion  of  my  thoughts  was  so  great,  that 
only  a  few  of  the  words  I  heard  spoken  on  either 
side  made  any  lasting  impression  upon  me.  I  felt 
as  if  struck  with  some  insupportable  blow;  and 
death  would  not  have  been  more  frightful  to  me.  I 


OF  MABIA  MONZ. 


n 


am  iDolined  to  the  belief  that  Father  Biohards  wish- 
ed to  shield  the  poor  prisoner  from  the  seyerityof 
her  fate,  by  drawing  from  her  expressions  that 
might  bear  a  favourable  construction.  He  asked  her, 
among  other  things,  if  she  was  now  sorry  for  what 
she  had  been  overheard  to  say,  (for  she  had  been  be- 
trayed by  one  of  the  uuds,)  and  if  she  would  not  pre- 
fer confinemeDt  in  the  cells  to  the  punishment  which 
was  threatened.  But  the  Bishop  soon  interrupted 
bim,  and  it  was  easy  to  perceive,  that  he  considered 
her  fate  as  sealed,  and  was  determined  she  should 
not  escape.  In  reply  to  some  of  the  questions  put 
to  her,  she  was  silent ;  to  others  I  heard  her  voice  re- 
ply that  she  did  not  repent  of  words  she  had  utter- 
ed, though  they  had  been  reported  bv  some  of  the 
nuns  who  had  heard  them ;  that  she  had  firmly  se- 
solved  to  resist  every  attempt  to  compel  her  to  the 
commission  of  crimes  which  she  detested.  She  add- 
ed that  she  would  rather  die  than  cause  the  murder 
of  harmless  babes. 

"  That  is  enough,  finish  her !"  said  the  Bishop. 

Two  nuns  instantly  fell  upon  the  woman,  and  in 
obedience  to  directions,  {^iven  by  the  Superior,  pre- 
pared to  execute  her  sentence. 

She  still  maintained  all  the  calmness  and  submis- 
sion of  a  lamb.  Some  of  those  who  took  part  in  this 
transaction,  I  believe,  were  as  unwilling  as  myself : 
but  of  others  I  can  safely  say,  I  believe  they  delight- 
ed in  it.  Their  conduct  certainly  exhibited  a  most 
blood-thirstv  spirit.  But  above  all  others  present, 
and  above  all  human  fiends  lever  saw,  I  think  Saint 
Hypolite  was  the  most  diabolical ;  she  engaged  in 
the  horrid  task  with  all  alacrity,  and  assumed  from 
choice  the  most  revolting  parts  to  be  performed. 
She  seized  a  gag,  forced  it  into  the  mouth  of  the 
poor  nun,  and  when  it  was  fixed  between  her  extend- 
ed jaws,  so  as  to  keep  them  open  at  their  greatest 
possible  distance,  took  hold  of  the  straps  fastened  at 
each  end  of  the  stick,  crossed  them  behind  the  help- 


i 


x; 


I?  V'     • 


r. 


i»  -i  ■ 


74  AWFUL  DXBOLOSX7RB8 

less  head  of  the  viotim,  and  drew  tbem  ti^bt  through 
the  loop  prepared  as  a  faitening. 

The  Ded,  which  had  always  stood  in  one  part  of 
the  room,  still  remained  there ;  thoup^h  the  screen, 
which  had  usually  been  placed  before  it,  and  was 
made  of  thick  muslin,  with  only  a  crevice  through 
which  a  person  might  look  out,  bad  been  folded  up 
on  its  hinges  iu  the  form  of  a  W.,  and  placed  in  a 
comer.  On  the  bed  the  prisoner  was  laid  with  her 
face  upwards,  and  then  bound  with  cords  so  that  she 
could  not  move.  In  an  instant,  another  bed  was 
thrown  upon  her.  One  of  the  priests,  named  Boniu, 
sprung  like  a  fury  first  upon  it,  with  all  his  force. 
He  was  speedily  followed  by  the  nunc,  until  there 
were  as  many  upon  the  bed  as  could  find  room,  and 
all  did  what  they  could,  not  only  to  smother,  but  to 
bruise  her.  Some  stood  up  and  lumped  upon  the 
poor  girl  with  their  feet,  some  with  their  knees :  and 
others,  in  different  ways,  seemed  to  seek  how  they 
might  best  beat  the  breath  out  of  her  body,  and 
mangle  it,  without  coming  in  direct  contact  with  it, 
or  seeing  the  effects  of  their  violences.  During  this 
time,  my  feelings  were  almost  too  strong  to  be  en- 
dured. I  felt  stupefied,  and  scarcelv  was  conscious 
of  what  }  did.  Still,  fear  for  myself  remained  iu  a 
sufficient  degree  to  induce  me  to  some  exertion ;  and 
I  attempted  to  talk  to  those  who  stood  next,  partly 
that  I  might  have  an  excuse  for  turning  away  from 
the  dreadful  scene. 

After  the  lapse  of  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes,  and 
when  it  was  presumed  that  the  sufferer  had  been 
smothered  and  crushed  to  death,  Father  Boniu  and 
the  nuns  ceased  to  trample  upon  her,  and  stepped 
from  the  bed.  All  was  motionless  and  silent  beneath  it. 

They  then  began  to  laugh  at  such  inhuman  thoughts 
as  occurred  to  some  of  them,  rallying  each  other  in 
the  most  unfeeling  manner,  and  ridiculing  me  for 
feelings  which  I  in  vain  endeavoured  to  conceal. 
They  alluded  to  the  resignation  ol  oormurdered  com- 


07  yLAUix  ^roNK. 


75 


tiiibt  through  I  raniont  and  one  of  them  teughtinglyrijid,  "She 
I  would  nave  made  a  good  Oatholic  murtyr/'  After 
spending  some  momenta  in  such  conyerBatioii,  one 
ofthem  asked  if  the  oorpse  ahould  be  remoyed.  The 
Superior  said  it  bad  better  remain  a  little  while.  Af- 
ter waiting  a  short  time  longer,  the  feather-bed  was 
taken  off,  the  cords  unloosed,  and  the  body  taken  by 
the  nuns  and  dragged  down  stairs.  I  was  informed 
that  it  was  taken  into  the  cellar,  and  thrown  unoere« 
moniously  into  the  hole  which  I  have  already  de- 
scribed, covered  with  a  great  quantity  of  lime ;  and 
afterwards  sprinkled  with  a  liquid,  of  the  properties 
and  name  of  which  I  am  ignorant.  Thfs  liquid  I 
have  seen  poured  into  the  hole  from  larr  9  buttles, 
after  the  necks  were  broken  off  ;  and  have  Leard 
that  it  is  used  in  France  to  prevent  the  effluvia  liaing 
from  cemeteries. 

I  did  not  soon  recover  from,  the  shook  caused  by 
this  scene ;  indeed,  it  still  recurs  to  me,  with  most 
{{loomy  impressions.  The  next  day,  there  w  t&  i 
melancholy  aspect  over  everything,  and  reoreaUou 
time  passed  in  the  dullest  manner ;  scarcely  any- 
thin  {^  was  said  above  a  whisper.  I  never  heard 
much  said  afterwards  about  Saint  Frances. 

I  spoke  with  one  of  tho  nuns,  a  few  words,  one 
day,  but  we  were  all  cautioned  not  to  expose  our- 
selves very  far,  and  could  not  place  much  reliance 
iu  each  other.  The  murdered  nun  had  been  brought 
to  her  shocking  end  through  the  treachery  of  one  of 
our  number  in  whom  she  confided. 

I  never  knew  with  certainty  who  had  reported  her 
remarks  to  the  Superior,  but  suspicion  fastened  on 
one,  and  I  never  could  regard  her  but  ivith  detestation . 

I  was  more  inclined  to  blam  3  ^mt  than  some  of 
those  employed  in  the  execution ;  for  there  could 
have  been  no  necessity  for  the  betrayal  of  her  feel- 
iu|i:s.  We  all  knew  how  to  avoid  exposing  each  other. 

I  was  often  sent  by  the  Superior  to  overhear  what 
was  said  by  novices  and  nuns,  when  they  seemed  to 


fcs^ 


ia. 


;  I 


■}■: 


n 


11 


76 


AWFUL  DISOLOSTTBBS 


shun  her;  she  would  say,  "  Go  and  listen,  they  are 
speaking  English;"  and  though  I  ohe;p'ed  her,  I 
never  informed  her  against  them.  If  I  wished  to 
clear  my  conscience,  i  would  go  to  a  priest  and  con* 
fess,  knowing  that  he  dared  not  communicate  what 
I  said  to  any  person,  and  that  he  would  not  choose 
as  heayy  penances  as  the  Superior. 

We  were  always  at  liberty  to  choose  another  con- 
fessor when  he  had  any  sin  to  confess,  which  we 
were  unwilling  to  tell  one  to  whom  we  should  other* 
wise  have  done. 

Not  long  after  the  murder  just  related,  a  young 
woman  camo  to  the  nunnery,  and  asked  for  permis* 
sion  to  see  St.  Frances.  It  was  ray  former  friend, 
with  whom  I  had  been  an  assistant  teacher.  Miss 
Louisa  Bousquet,  of  St.  Denis.  From  this,  I  sup- 
posed the  murdered  nun  might  have  come  from  that 
town,  or  its  vicinity.  The  only  answer  was,  that  St. 
Frances  was  dead. 

Some  time  afterwards,  some  of  St.  Frances'  friends 
called  to  inquire  after  her,  and  they  were  told  that 
she  had  died  a  glorious  death ;  aud  further  told, 
that  she  made  some  heavenly  expressions,  which  were 
repeated  in  order  to  satisfy  her  f  rieuds. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Description  of  the  Room  of  the  three  States,  and  the  pic- 
tures in  it— Jane  Hay— Ridiculing  Priests— Their  cnmi- 
nal  treatment  of  us  at  Confession— Jane  Hay's  tricks 
with  the  Nun*s  Aprons,  Handkerchiefs,  and  Night 
Gowns— Apples. 

Thb  pictures  in  the  room  of  the  three  states  were 
large,  and  painted  by  some  artist  who  understood 
how  to  make  some  horrible  ones.  They  appeared  to 
be  stuck  to  the  walls.  The  li^ht  is  admitted  from 
small  and  high  windows,  which  are  curtaiued,  and 
is  rather  faint,  to  as  to  make  everything  look  gloomy. 
The  story  told  us  was,  that  they  were  painted  by  an 
artist,  to  whom  Ood  had  given  power  to  represent 


OF  yULBlk  MONK. 


77 


things  exactly  as  they  are  in  heayen,  hell,  and  pnr- 

In  heaven,  the  picture  of  which  hangs  on  one  side 
of  the  apartment,  multitudes  of  nuns  and  priests  are 
put  in  the  highest  places,  with  the  Virgin  Mary  at 
their  head,  St.  Peter  and  other  saints,  far  ahove  the 
great  numhers  of  good  Catholics  of  other  classes, 
who  are  crowded  in  below. 

In  purgatory  are  multitudes  of  people ;  and  in  one 
part,  called  "  The  place  of  lambs,*'  are  infants  who 
died  unhaptized.  *^  The  place  of  darkness*'  is  that 
part  of  purgatory  in  which  adults  are  collected,  and 
there  they  are  surrounded  by  flames,  waiting  to  be 
delivered  by  the  prayers  of  the  livinjj. 

In  hell,  the  picture  of  which,  and  that  of  purga- 
tory, were  on  the  wall  opposite  that  of  heaveu,  the 
human  faces  were  the  most  horrible  that  can  be  ima- 
gined. Persons  of  different  descriptions  were  repre- 
sented, with  the  most  distorted  features,  ghastly  com- 
plexions, and  every  variety  of  dreadful  expression ; 
some  with  wild  beasts  gnawing  at  their  heads, 
others  furiouslv  biting  the  iron  bars  which  kept 
them  in,  with  looks  which  could  not  fail  to  make  a 
spectator  shudder. 

I  could  hardly  persuade  myself,  that  the  figures 
were  not  living,  and  the  impression  they  made  on 
my  feelings  was  powerful.  I  was  often  shown  the 
place  where  nuns  go  who  break  their  vows,  as  a 
warning.  It  is  the  hottest  place  in  hell,  and  worse, 
in  every  point  of  view,  even  than  that  to  which  all 
Protestants  are  assigned ;  because  they  are  not  so 
much  to  be  blamed,  as  we  were  sometimes  assured,  as 
their  ministers  and  the  Bible,  by  which  they  are  per- 
verted. 

Whenever  I  was  shut  in  that  room,  as  I  was  sev- 
eral times,  I  praved  for  **  les  ^mes  des  fiddles  tre- 
{)a8Re8 ;''  the  souls  of  those  faithful  ones  who  have 
ong  been  in  purgatory,  and  have  no  relations  living 
to  pray  for  them. 


78 


A.WPVZ  SISOLOSimSS 


i 


My  feelings  were  often  of  the  most  painful  de- 
scription, while  I  remained  alone  with  those  fright. 
lul  pictures. 

Jane  Bay  was  ouce  put  in,  and  uttered  the  most 
dreadful  shrieks.  Some  of  the  old  nuns  proposed  to 
the  Superior  to  have  her  prajjged ;  "  No,"  she  replied, 
'*  go  and  let  out  that  devil,  she  makes  me  sin  moro 
than  all  the  rest." 

Jane  could  not  endure  the  place ;  and  she  after- 
wards cave  names  to  many  of  the  worst  fi^rures  of 
the  pictures.  On  catechism-days  she  would  take  a 
seat  behind  a  cupboard  door,  where  the  priest  could 
not  see  her,  while  she  faced  the  nuns,  and  would 
make  us  laup;h.  **  You  are  not  so  attentive  to  your 
lessons  as  you  used  to  be,"  he  would  bep^in  to  say, 
while  we  were  endeavouring  to  suppress  our  In  ughter. 

Jane  would  then  hold  up  the  first  letter  of  some 
priest* s  name  whom  she  had  before  compared  with 
one  of  the  faces  in  *'  hell,"  and  so  look  that  we  could 
hardly  preserve  our  gravity. 

I  remember  she  named  the  wretch  who  was  bitio$[ 
at  the  bars  of  hell,  with  a  serpent  gnawing  bis  head, 
with  chains  and  padlocks  on.  Father  Dufresne;  and 
she  would  say — **  Does  he  not  look  like  him,  when 
he  comes  in  to  catechism  with  his  long  solemn  face, 
and  begins  his  speeches  with, '  My  children,  my  hope 
is  that  you  have  lived  very  devout  lives  ?'  " 

The  first  time  I  went  to  confession  after  taking  the 
veil,  I  found  abundant  evidence  that  the  itriests  did 
not  treat  even  that  ceremony,  which  is  called  a  so* 
lemn  sacrament,  with  respect  enough  to  lay  aside  the 
shameless  character  they  so  often  showed  on  other 
occasions.  The  confessor  sometimes  sat  in  the  room 
for  the  examination  of  conscience,  and  sometimes  iu 
the  Superior's  room,  and  always  alone  except  the 
nun  who  was  confessing.    He  had  a  common  chair 

£  laced  in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  and  instead  of  he* 
Iff  placed  behind  a  grate,  or  lattice,  as  in  the  r^ 
pel,  had  nothing  before  or  around  him.  Thoio  wue 


OF  MAUIA  If ONK. 


7? 


CO  spectators  to  observe  him,  and  of  course  any  such 
thing  would  have  been  unnecessary. 

A  number  of  nuns  usually  confessed  on  the  same 
day,  but  only  one  could  be  admHted  into  the  room 
at  a  time.  They  took  their  places  just  without  the 
door,  on  their  knees,  and  went  through  the  prepara« 
tion  prescribed  by  the  rules  of  confession  ;  repcatinjg^ 
certain  prayers,  which  always  occupy  a  considerable 
time.  When  one  was  ready,  she  rose  from  her  knees, 
entered,  and  closed  the  door  behind  her;  and  no  one 
even  dared  touch  the  latch  till  she  came  out. 

I  shall  not  tell  what  was  transacted  at  such  times, 
under  the  pretence  of  confessing,  and  receiving  ab- 
solution from  sin ;  far  more  sin  was  often  incurred 
than  pardoned ;  and  crimes  of  a  deep  dye  were  com- 
mitted, while  trifling  irregularities  in  childish  cere- 
mouies,  were  treated  as  serious  offences.  I  cannot 
persuade  myself  to  speak  plainly  on  such  a  subject, 
as  I  must  offend  the  virtuous  car.  I  can  only  say, 
that  suspicion  cannot  do  any  injustice  to  the  priests, 
because  their  sins  cannot  be  exac;(;eratod. 

Some  idea  may  be  formed  of  the  manner  in  which 
even  such  women  as  many  of  my  sister  nuns,  regard* 
ed  the  father  confessors,  when  I  state  that  there 
was  often  a  contest  among  us,  to  avoid  entering  the 
apartment  as  long  as  we  could  :  endeavouring  to 
make  each  other  go  first,  as  that  was  what  most  of 
us  dreaded. 

During  the  long  and  tedious  dnys  which  filled  up 
the  time  between  the  occurrences  I  have  mentioned, 
uothing  or  little  took  place  to  keep  up  our  spirits. 
We  were  fatigued  in  body  with  labour,  or  with  sit« 
ting,  debilitated  by  the  long  continutmce  of  our  re« 
iigious  exercises,  and  depressed  in  feelings  by  our  mi- 
serable and  hopeless  condition.  Nothing  but  the  hu- 
mours  of  mad  Jane  Bay  could  rouse  us  for  a  mo* 
meat  from  our  languor  and  melancholy. 

To  mention  all  her  devices,  would  require  more 
iood;  ihnsx  is  here  allowed,  aud  a  memory  of  almost 


80 


AWFUL  DIS0LO8T7BES 


c 


1 


]■<■ 


m 


all  her  words  and  actions  for  years.  I  had  earlv  be. 
come  a  f  avourite  with  her,  and  had  opportunity  to 
learn  more  of  her  character  than  most  of  the  other 
nuns.  As  this  may  he  learned  from  hearing  what 
she  did.  I  will  here  recount  a  few  of  her  tricks,  jnst 
as  they  happen  to  present  themselves  to  my  memory, 
with  regard  to  the  order  of  time. 

She  one  day,  in  an  uimccountahle  humour,  sprink- 
led the  floor  plentifully  with  holy  water,  which 
brought  upon  her  a  severe  lecture  from  the  Superior, 
as  might  have  been  expected.  The  Superior  said  it 
was  a  heinous  offence :  she  had  wasted  holy  water 
enough  to  save  many  souls  from  purgatory :  and 
what  would  they  not  give  for  it.  She  then  ordered 
Jane  to  sit  in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  and  when  the 
priest  came,  he  was  informed  of  her  offence.  In- 
stead, however,  of  imposing  one  of  those  penances 
to  which  she  had  been  iuhjected,  but  with  so  little 
effect,  he  said  to  her,  **  Go  to  your  place,  Jane;  we 
forgive  you  for  this  time." 

I  was  once  set  to  iron  aprons  with  Jane  ;  aproos 
and  pocket-handkerchiefs  are  the  only  articles  of 
dress  which  are  ever  ironed  in  the  Convent.  As  soou 
as  we  were  alone,  she  remarked,  "  Well,  we  are  free 
from  the  rules  while  we  are  at  this  work ;"  and,  al- 
thoui^'h  she  knew  she  had  no  reason  for  saying  eo, 
she  began  to  sing,  and  I  soon  joined  her,  and  thus 
we  spent  the  time,  while  we  were  at  work,  to  the 
neglect  of  the  prayers  that  we  ought  to  have  said. 

We  had  no  idea  that  weT  were  in  danger  of  beiD^r 
overheard,  but  it  happened  that  the  Superior  was 
overhead  all  the  time,  with  several  nuns,  who  were 
preparing  for  confession  :  she  came  down  and  said, 
*'  How  is  this  P"  Jane  Kay  coolly  replied  that  we 
had  employed  our  time  in  singing  hymns,  and  re- 
ferred to  me.  I  was  afraid  to  oonflrm  so  direct  a 
falsehood,  in  order  to  deceive  the  Superior,  though  I 
had  often  told  more  injurious  ones  of  her  fabnoa- 
tion,  or  at  her  orders,  and  m\(\  very  little  in  wply  to 
Jane's  rcquesi. 


1*^1 


09  UAfiU  UONX. 


SI 


r,  and  when  the 


Itbe  Superior  plainly  saw  the  trick  that  was  at* 
tempted,  and  ordered  us  both  to  the  room  for  the 
examination  of  conscience,  where  w.e  remained  till 
night  without  a  mouthful  to  eat.  The  time  was  not, 
Itowever,  unoccupied :  I  received  such  a  lecture  from 
Jane  as  I  have  very  seldom  heard,  and  she  was  so 
nugry  with  me,  that  we  did  not  speak  to  each  other 
for  two  weeks. 

At  length  she  found  something  to  complain  of 
against  me,  had  me  subjected  to  a  penance,  which 
led  to  our  begging  each  other's  pardon,  and  we  be- 
came perfectly  satisfied,  reconciled,  and  as  good 
friends  as  ever. 

One  of  the  most  disgusting  penances  we  had  ever 
to  submit  to,  was  that  of  drinking  the  water  in 
which  the  Superior  had  washed  her  feet.  Nobody 
could  ever  laugh  at  this  penance  except  Jane  Bay. 
She  would  pretend  to  comfort  us,  by  saying  she  was 
sure  it  was  better  than  mere  plain  clear  water. 

Some  of  the  tricks  which  I  remember,  were  played 
b\r  Jane  with  nuus'  clothes.  It  was  a  rule  that  the 
oldest  aprons  in  use  should  go  to  the  youngest  re- 
ceived, and  that  the  old  nuns  were  to  wear  all  the 
new  ones.  On  four  different  occasions,  Jane  stole 
into  the  sleeping-room  at  night,  and  unobserved  by 
the  watch,  changed  a  great  part  of  the  aprons,  plac- 
ing them  by  the  beds  of  nuns  to  whom  they  did  not 
belong.  The  consequence  was,  that  in  the  morning 
they  dressed  themselves  in  such  haste,  as  never  to 
discover  the  mistake  they  made,  until  they  were  all 
ranged  at  prayers ;  and  then  the  ridiculous  appear- 
ance which  many  of  them  cut,  disturbed  the  long  de- 
votions. I  laugh  so  easy  that,  on  such  occasions,  I 
usually  incurred  a  full  share  of  penances.  I  general- 
ly, however,  got  a  new  apron,  when  Jane  played  this 
nick ;  for  it  was  part  of  her  object  to  give  the  best 
aprons  to  her  favourites,  and  put  off  the  ragged  ones 
on  tome  of  the  old  nuns  whom  she  most  ha&d. 

Jane  once  lost  her  pooket-handkerohief .  llie  pen* 
174  B 


82 


AWFUL  VtSOLOSXraXB 


!  m 


H' 


Hi 


f  \ 


Jl'  ■' 
p. 


I?    ** 


1: 

"A 


I 


anoe  for  Buoh  an  offence  is,  to  go  without  any  for  Ayb 
wedcs.  For  this  sbo  had  no  relish,  and  requested  me 
to  piok  one  frcm  some  of  the  nuns  on  the  way  m 
stairs.  I  succeeded  in  getting  two  ;  this  Jane  saia 
was  one  too  many,  and  she  thought  it  dan  parous  for 
either  of  us  to  keep  it,  lest  a  search  should  he  made. 
Very  soon  the  two  nuns  were  complaining  that  they 
had  lost  their  handkerchiefs,  and  wonderiDg  what 
could  have  become  of  them,  as  they  were  sure  thej 
bad  been  careful.  Jane  seized  an  opportunity,  and 
slipped  one  into  a  straw  bed,  where  it  remained  un- 
til the  bed  was  emptied  to  be  filled  with  new  straw. 

As  the  winter  was  coming  on,  one  year,  she  com- 
plained to  me  that  we  were  not  as  well  supplied  with 
warm  night-clothes,  as  two  of  the  nuns  she  uamed, 
whom  she  said  she  "  abominated."  She  soon  after 
found  means  to  get  possession  of  their  fine  warm 
flannel  night-gowns,  one  of  which  she  gave  to  me, 
while  the  other  was  put  on  at  bedtime.  She  presum- 
ed the  owners  would  have  a  secret  search  for  them; 
and  in  the  morning  hid  them  in  the  stove,  after  the 
fire  had  gone  out,  which  was  kindled  a  little  hefoie 
the  hour  of  rising,  and  then  suffered  to  hum  down. 

This  she  did  every  morning,  taking  them  out  at 
night  through  the  winter.  The  poor  nuns  who  oini- 
ed  the  garments  were  afraid  to  complain  of  their 
loss,  lest  they  should  have  some  penance  laid  on 
them,  and  nothing  was  ever  said  about  them.  When 
the  weather  began  to  grow  warm  in  the  spring,  Jane 
returned  the  night-gowns  to  the  beds  of  the  nuns 
from  whom  she  had  borrowed  them,  and  they  werd 

Srobably  as  much  surprised  to  find  them  again,  as 
iiey  had  been  before  at  losing  them. 
'  Jane  once  found  an  opportunity  to  fill  her  apron 
with  a  quantity  of  fine  apples,  called/a9n«i^^,  which 
oame  in  her  way,  and  hastening  up  to  the  sleeping* 
room,  hid  them  under  my  bed.  Then  coming  down, 
•he  informed  me,  and  we  agreed  to  apply  for  leafs 
to  make  our  elevens,  as  it  is  called.     The  meaning 


1** 


09  UASXk  XOKS. 


83 


of  tbis  is,  to  repeat  a  certain  round  of  pravers,  for 
nine  days  in  succession,  to  some  saint  we  choose  to 
address  for  assistance  in  becoming  more  charitable^ 
affectionate,  or  something  else.  We  easily  obtained 
permission,  and  hastened  upstairs  to  begin  our  nine 
days'  feast  on  the  apples ;  when,  much  to  our  sur- 
prise, they  had  all  been  taken  away,  and  there  was 
no  way  to  avoid  the  disagreeable  fate  we  had 
brought  upon  ourselves.  Jane,  therefore,  began  to 
search  the  beds  of  the  other  nuns :  but  not  finding 
any  trace  of  the  apples,  she  became  doubly  vexed, 
and  stuck  pins  in  those  that  belonged  to  her  enemies. 
When  bed-time  came,  they  were  much  scratched 
in  getting  into  bed,  which  made  them  break  silence, 
and  that  subjected  them  to  penances. 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Fane  Ray's  tricks  continued — ^The  broomstick  ghost— Sleep- 
walking—Salted  cider— Chan^ng  beds— Objects  of  some 
of  her  tricks— Feigned  Humility — Alarm. 

Onb  night.  Jane,  who  had  been  sweeping  the  sleep- 
ing-room  for  a  penance,  dressed  up  the  broomstick, 
when  she  had  completed  her  work,  with  a  white 
doth  on  the  end,  so  tied  as  to  resemble  an  old  wo« 
man  dressed  in  white,  with  long  arms  sticking  out. 
This  she  stuck  through  a  broken  pane  of  glass,  and 
placed  it  so  that  it  appeared  to  be  looking  in  at  the 
window,  by  the  font  of  holy  water.  There  it  re- 
mained till  the  nuns  came  up  to  bed.  The  first  who 
stopped  at  the  font,  to  dip  her  finger  in,  caught  a 
glimpse  of  the  singular  object,  and  started  with  ter- 
ror. The  next  was  equally  terrified,  as  she  ap- 
proached, and  the  next,  and  the  next. 

We  all  believed  in  ghosts ;  and  it  was  not  wonder- 
ful that  such  an  object  should  cause  alarm,  especially 
as  it  was  but  a  short  time  after  the  death  of  one  of 
^e  nuns.  Thus'^hey  went  on,  each  getting  a 
fright  in  torn,  yet  all  afraid  to  speak.  At  leng^, 
one  more  alarmed,  or  with  less  presence  of  mind 


;..| 


m 


I  %'^ 


u 


AWFTTL  BISOIiMUJUra 


t^ 


■M 


It' 


I, 

r        I 


i 


I 

4 

i  ' 


... 
,''-*•  '-f  ■ 


'■-» 


M 


•\i  -    I    ♦ 


I    ■ 


.i; 


a;*"'  ■■■•I 
,.j '. 


than  the  rest,  exclaimed,  **  Oh,  mon  Dieu !  ]e  ne 
OBfi  ooucheraia  pas !"  When  the  night  watch  call- 
ed oat,  "  Who's  that?"  she  confessed  she  had  broken 
silence,  but  pointed  at  the  cause ;  and  when  all  the 
nuns  assembled  at  a  distance  from  the  window,  Jane 
offered  to  advance  boldly,  and  ascertain  the  nature 
of  the  apparition,  which  they  thought  a  most  reso- 
lute intention.  We  all  stood  looking  on,  when  she 
stepped  to  the  window,  drew  in  the  broomstick,  and 
showed  us  the  ridiculous  puppet  which  had  alarmed 
so  many  superstitious  fears. 

Some  of  her  greatest  feats  she  performed  as  a 
sleep-walker.  Whether  she  ever  walked  in  her 
sleep  or  not,  I  am  unable,  with  certainly,  to  say. 
She,  however,  often  imposed  upon  the  Superior,  and 
old  nuns,  by  making  them  think  so,  when  I  knew 
she  did  not ;  and  yet  I  cannot  positively  say  that  she 
always  did.  I  have  remarked  that  one  of  the  old 
nuns  was  always  placed  in  our  sleepiug-room  at 
night,  to  watch  us.  Sometimes  she  would  be  in- 
attentive, and  sometimes  fall  into  a  doze.  Jane  Bay 
often  seized  such  times  to  rise  from  her  bed,  and 
walk  about,  occasionally  seizing  one  of  the  nuns  in 
bed,  in  order  to  frighten  her.  This  she  generally  ef- 
fected ;  and  many  times  we  have  been  awakened  by 
screams  of  terror.  In  our  alarm,  some  of  us  fre- 
quently broke  silence,  and  gave  occasion  to  the  Su- 
perior to  lay  us  under  penances.  Many  times,  how- 
ever, we  escaped  with  a  mere  reprimand,  while  Jane 
usually  received  expressions  of  compassion:  **Foor 
creature ;  she  woulct  not  do  so  if  she  were  in  perfect 
possession  of  her  reason."  And  Jane  displayed  her 
customary  artfulness,  in  keeping  up  the  false  im- 
pression. As  soon  as  she  perceived  that  the  old  nun 
was  likely  to  observe  her,  she  would  throw  her  arms 
about,  or  appear  unconscious  of  what  she  was  do- 
ing ;  falling  upon  a  bed,  or  standing  stock-still,  un- 
til exertions  had  been  made  to  rouse  her  from  her 
supposed  lethargy. 


OV  MABIA  XOHK. 


8$ 


We  were  onoe  allowed  to  drink  dder  at  dinner, 
which  was  quite  an  extraordinary  favonr.  JanOi^ 
however,  on  account  of  her  negligence  of  all  work, 
was  denied  the  privilege,  which  she  much  resented. 

The  next  dav,  when  dinner  arrived,  we  began  to 
taste  our  new  arink,  but  it  was  so  salt  we  comd  not 
swallow  it.  Those  of  us  who  first  discovered  it  were 
as  usual  afraid  to  speak ;  but  we  set  down  our  oupa, 
and  looked  around,  till  the  others  made  the  same  dis- 
covery, which  they  all  soon  did,  and  most  of  them 
in  the  same  manner.  Some,  however,  at  length, 
taken  by  surprise,  uttered  some  ludicrous  exclam- 
tiou,  on  tasting  the  salted  cider,  and  then  an  old  nun, 
looking  across,  would  cry  out— 

*'  Ah !  tu  casses  la  silence."  (Ah ;  you've  broken 
silence.) 

And  thus  we  soon  got  a  laughing,  beyond  our 
power  of  supporting  it.  At  recreation  that  day,  the 
first  (question  asked  by  many  of  us  was,  **  How  did 
you  like  your  cider  P" 

Jane  Bay  never  had  a  fixed  place  to  sleep  in. 
When  the  weather  began  to  grow  warm  in  ttie 
spring,  she  usually  pushed  some  bed  out  of  its  place. 
near  a  window,  and  put  her  owu  beside  it ;  ana 
when  the  winter  approached,  she  would  choose  a 
spot  near  the  stove,  and  occupy  it  with  her  bed,  in 
spite  of  all  remonstrance,  we  were  all  convinced 
that  it  was  generally  best  to  yield  to  her. 

She  was  often  set  to  work  in  different  ways ;  but, 
whenever  she  was  dissatisfied  with  doing  any  thing, 
would  devise  some  trick  that  would  make  the  Su* 
perior  or  old  nuns  drive  her  off ;  and  whenever  any 
suspicion  was  expressed  of  her  being  in  her  right 
mind,  she  would  say  that  she  did  not  know  what 
slie  was  doing ;  and  all  the  difficulty  arose  from  her 
repeating  prayers  too  much,  which  wearied  and  dis^ 
traoted  her  mmd. 

I  was  onoe  directed  to  assist  Jane  Bay  in  shifting 
the  heds  of  the  nuns.     When  we  came  to  those  of 


h 


i: 


r^i 


1>J    . 


\1 


mir:! 


■t, , 


\    - 


i      • 


•  I 


r . 


86 


▲WfUL  DZ80IiOSl7BS8 


■ome  of  the  sfitert  whom  she  most  disliked,  iheiaid 
now  we  will  pay  them  for  some  of  the  penances  we 
haye  suffered  on  their  account;  and  takinff  some 
thistles,  she  mixed  them  with  the  straw.  At  night, 
the  first  of  them  that  got  into  bed  felt  the  thistles, 
and  cried  out.  The  ni«rht- watch  exclaimed  us  usual 
*'  Tou  are  breaking  silence  there."  And  then  auo- 
ther  screamed  as  she  was  scratched  by  the  thistles, 
and  another.  The  old  nun  then  called  on  all  who 
had  broken  silence  to  rise,  and  ordered  them  to 
sleep  under  their  beds  as  a  penance,  which  they  si- 
lently complied  with.  Jane  and  I  afterwards  ecu- 
fessed,  when  it  was  all  over,  and  took  some  trifling 
penance  which  the  priest  imposed. 

Those  nuns  who  fell  most  under  the  displeasure 
of  mad  Jane  Bay,  as  I  have  intimated  before,  were 
those  who  had  the  reputation  of  being  most  ready 
to  inform  of  the  most  trifling  faults  of  others,  aud 
especiallv  those  who  acted  without  any  regard  to 
honour,  by  disclosing  what  they  had  pretended  to 
listen  to  in  confidence.  Several  of  the  worst-tem- 
pered "  saints"  she  held  in  abhorrence ;  aud  I  have 
heard  her  say,  that  such  and  such  she  abominated. 
Many  a  trick  did  she  play  upon  these,  some  of  which 
were  painful  to  them  in  their  consequences,  and  l 

good  number  of  them  have  never  been  traced  to  this 
ay.  Of  all  the  nuns,  however,  none  other  was  re* 
garded  by  her  with  so  much  detestation  as  St.  Hypo- 
Bte ;  for  she  was  always  believed  to  have  betrayed 
St.  Frances,  aud  to  have  caused  her  murder.  She 
was  looked  upon  by  us  as  the  voluntary  cause  of  her 
death,  and  of  the  crime  which  those  of  us  committed, 
who.  unwillingly,  took  part  in  her  execution.  We, 
on  the  contrary,  being  under  the  worst  of  fears  for 
ourselves,  in  case  of  refusing  to  obey  our  masters 
and  mistress,  thought  ourselves  chargeable  with  less 
guilt,  as  unwilling  assistants  in  a  scene  which  it  was 
impossible  for  us  to  prevent  or  delay.  Jane  has  of- 
ten spoke  with  me  of  the  suspected  informer,  and 
always  in  terms  of  the  greatest  bitterness. 


sliked,  she  said, 
epenanoes  we 
i  taking  some 
aw.  At  night 
3lt  the  thistles, 
Eiimed  as  usual, 
And  then  auo* 
by  the  thistles, 
lied  on  all  who 
dered  them  to 
which  they  si. 
fterwards  ecu. 
z  some  trifling 

he  displeasure 
Bd  before,  were 
g  most  ready 
of  others,  aud 
iny  regard  to 

pretended  to 
;he  worst-tem- 
e ;  aud  I  have 
e  abominated, 
some  of  which 
uences,  audi. 
I  traced  to  this 
>ther  was  re* 
n  as  St.  Hypo- 
lave  betrayed 
Durder.  She 
7  cause  of  her 
us  committed, 
3cution.  We, 
st  of  fears  for 

our  masters 
able  with  less 
\  which  it  was 

Jane  has  of- 
n  former,  and 
ruess. 


OV  XABIA  llOmL 


sr 


Hie  Sqperior  lometlmet  ezpreMed  oommiaeratioa 
for  mad  Jane  Bay,  but  I  neyer  oould  tell  whether 
ihe  really  belieyed  her  insane  or  not.  I  wasalwayi 
inclined  to  think,  that  she  was  willing  to  put  op 
with  some  of  her  tricks,  because  they  served  to  di* 
jett  our  minds  from  the  painful  and  depressing  cir« 
cnmstances  in  which  we  were  placed.  I  knew  the 
Superior's  powers  and  habits  of  deception  also,  and 
that  she  would  deceive  us  as  willingly  as  any  one 

else. 

Sometimes  she  proposed  to  send  Jane  to  St.  Anne's, 
a  place  near  Quebec,  celebrated  for  the  pilgrimages 
made  to  it  by  persons  differently  afflicted.  It  is  sup* 
posed  that  some  peculiar  virtue  exists  there,  which 
will  restore  health  to  the  sick ;  and  I  have  heard 
stories  told  in  corroboration  of  the  common  belief. 
Many  lame  and  blind  persons,  with  others,  visit  St. 
Anne's  every  year,  some  of  whom  may  be  seen  tra* 
veiling  on  foot,  and  begging  their  food.  The  Su- 
perior would  sometimes  say  that  it  was  a  pity  that 
a  woman  like  Jane  Bay,  capable  of  being  so  useful, 
should  be  unable  to  do  her  duties,  in  consequence 
of  a  malady  which  she  thought  might  be  cured  by 
a  visit  to  St.  Anne's. 

Tet  to  St.  Anne's  Jane  was  never  sent,  and  her. 
wild  and  various  tricks  continued  as  before.  The 
rules  of  silence,  which  the  others  were  so  sorupn* 
lous  in  observing,  she  set  at  nought  every  hour ; 
and  as  for  other  rules,  she  regarded  them  with  as 
little  respect  when  they  stood  in  her  way.  She 
would  now  and  then  step  out  and  stop  the  clock 
by  which  our  exercises  were  regulated,  and  some- 
times in  this  manner  lengthened  out  our  recreation 
till  near  twelve.  At  last  the  old  nuns  began  to 
watch  against  such  a  trick,  and  would  occasionally 
go  out  to  see  if  the  clock  was  going. 

She  once  made  a  request  that  she  might  not  eat 
with  the  other  nuns,  which  was  granted,  as  it  seem- 
ed to  proceed  from  a  spirit  of  genuine  humility,  which 
made  her  regard  herself  as  unworthy  of  our  society* 


r-W^ 


'«, 


•r 


:51 


'%: 


"■'k 


Ui 


i«1  ^ 


I 


'H     .' 


*ii- 


88 


AWFUL  DXSOKMnTBBS 


It  being  most  coDYenient,  she  was  sent  to  the  Sa. 
perior's  table,  to  take  her  meals  after  her;  and  it 
did  not  first  occur  to  the  Superior  that  Jane,  in  thii 
manner,  profited  by  the  change,  by  gettiug  jixq^ 
better  food  than  the  rest  of  us.  Thus  there  seemed 
to  be  always  something  deeper  than  anybody  at 
first  suspected,  at  the  bottom  of  everythint^  she  did. 

She  was  once  directed  to  sweep  a  community- 
room,  under  the  sleeping-chamber.  This  office  had 
before  been  assigned  to  the  other  nuns,  as  a  pen. 
ance ;  but  the  Superior,  considering  that  Jane  Bay 
did  little  or  nothing,  determined  thus  to  famish 
her  with  some  employment. 

She  declared  to  us  that  she  would  not  sweep  it 
lone,  as  we  might  soon  be  assured.  It  happened 
that  the  stove  by  which  the  community-room  was 
warmed  in  the  winter,  had  its  pipe  carried  through 
the  floor  of  our  sleeping  chamber,  and  thence  across 
it  in  a  direction  opposite  that  in  which  the  pipe  of 
our  stove  was  carried.  It  being  then  warm  wea- 
ther, the  hole  was  left  unstopped.  After  we  had  all 
retired  to  our  beds,  and  while  engaged  in  our  silent 
prayers,  we  were  suddenly  alarmed  by  a  bright 
Dlaze  of  fire,  which  burst  from  the  hole  in  the  floor, 
and  threw  sparks  all  around  us.  We  thought  the 
building  was  burning,  and  uttered  cries  of  terror, 
regudless  of  the  penances,  the  fear  of  which  gener- 
ally kept  us  silent. 

The  utmost  confusion  prevailed  ;  for  although  we 
had  solemnly  vowed  never  to  flee  from  the  OonTent 
even  if  it  was  on  fire,  we  were  extremely  alarmed, 
and  could  not  repress  our  feelings.  We  soon  learnt 
the  cause,  for  the  flames  ceased  in  a  moment  or  two, 
and  it  was  found  that  mad  Jane  Bay,  after  sweep- 
ing a  little  in  the  room  beneath,  had  stuck  a  quanti- 
ty of  wet  powder  on  the  end  of  her  broom,  thrust  it 
up  through  the  hole  in  the  coaling  into  our  apart- 
ment, and  with  a  lighted  paper  set  it  on  fire. 

The  date  of  this  alarm  I  must  refer  to  a  time  soon 


>''  lr:''i 


s 


8  sent  to  the  8a. 
iter  her;  and  it 
hat  Jane,  inthii 
r  Rettiugr  much 
1U8  there  seemed 
lan  anybody  at 
rythinjT  she  did. 

a  community. 

This  ofHco  had 
'nuns,  as  a  pen. 
that  Jane  Bay 
thus  to  fumiah 

1  not  sweep  it 
It  happened 
mity-room  was 
carried  through 
id  thence  acron 
3h  the  pipe  of 
^en  warm  wea- 
Lf  ter  we  had  all 
gd  in  our  silent 


l_  b V  a  bright 
ole  in  the  floor, 
V©  thought  the 
cries  of  terror, 
I  which  genet* 

)r  although  we 
n  the  CouTent 
mely  alarmed, 
N^e  soon  learnt 
oment  or  two, 
after  sweep- 
;uck  a  quanti- 
'oom,  thrust  it 
uto  our  apart- 
on  fire, 
to  a  time  900a 


OF  TUfML  XOHX.* 

after  that  of  the  eleotion  riots ;  for  I  recollect  that 
the  found  means  to  ffet  possession  of  some  of  the 
powder  which  was  prepared  at  that  time  for  an 
emergency  to  which  some  thought  the  Convent  was 

exposed.  ,  a*.       *«. 

She  once  asked  for  pen  and  paper,  and  then  tne 
Superior  told  her  if  she  wrote  to  her  frinnds  she 
must  sec  it.  She  replied  that  it  was  for  no  such  pnr- 
pose:  she  wanted  to  write  her  confession,  and  thus 
make  it  once  for  all.  She  wroto  it,  handed  it  to  the 
priest,  and  he  pave  it  to  the  Superior,  who  rend  it  to 
us.  It  was  full  of  offences  which  she  hnd  never 
committed,  evidently  written  to  throw  ridicule  on 
confessions,  and  one  of  the  most  ludicrous  produc- 
tions I  ever  saw. 

Our  bedsteads  were  made  with  very  narrow  boards 
laid  across  them,  on  which  the  beds  were  laid.  One 
day,  while  we  were  in  the  bed-chambers  top^ether, 
she  propose^that  we  should  misplace  these  boards. 
This  was  done,  so  that  at  ni^ht  nearly  a  dozen  nuns 
fell  down  upon  the  floor  in  getting  into  bed.  A  good 
deal  of  confusion  naturally  ensued,  but  the  authors 
were  not  discovered.  I  was  so  conscience-stricken, 
however,  that  a  week  afterwards,  while  we  were  ex- 
amining our  consciences  together,  I  told  her  I  must 
confess  the  sin  the  next  day.  She  replied,  ''  Do  as 
you  like,  but  you  will  be  sorry  for  it.*' 

The  next  da^,  when  we  came  before  the  Superior, 
I  was  just  gomg  to  kneel  and  confess,  when  Jane, 
almost  without  giving  me  time  to  shut  the  door, 
threw  herself  at  the  Superior's  feet  and  confessed  the 
trick,  and  a  penance  was  immediately  laid  upon  me 
for  the  sin  I  had  concealed. 

There  was  an  old  nun  who  was  a  famous  talker, 
whom  we  used  to  call  La  M^re  (Mother.)  One  night. 
Jane  Bay  got  up,  and  secretly  changed  the  caps  oz 
several  of  the  nuns ;  and  hers  among  the  rest.  In 
the  morning  there  was  great  confusion,  and  snob  a 
scene  as  seldom  occurred.    She  was  severely  blamed 


'>ii 


i 


liiV 


00 


AWFUL  DnOLOSTTim 


by  La  M&re,  haying  been  informed  against  by  loan 
of  thb  nuns;  and  at  last  became  so  much  enraged 
that  she  attacked  the  old  woman,  and  even  took  her 
by  the  throat.  La  Mire  called  on  all  present  to 
oome  to  her  assistance,  and  several  nuns  inteHered. 
Jane  seized  the  opportunity  afforded  in  the  oonfa* 
lion,  to  beat  some  of  her  worst  enemies  quite  severe- 
ly, and  afterward  said,  that  she  had  intended  to  kill 
some  of  the  rascally  informers. 

For  a  time  Jane  made  us  laugh  so  much  at  prayen, 
that  the  Superior  forbade  her  goinpr  down  with  m 
at  mominf?  prayers ;  and  she  took  the  opportunity 
to  sleep  in  the  morning.  When  this  was  found  oot, 
she  was  forbidden  to  get  into  her  bed  again  after 
leaving  it,  and  then  she  would  creep  under  it  and 
take  a  nap  on  the  floor.  This  she  told  us  of  one  day, 
but  threatened  us  if  we  ever  betrayed  her.  At  length 
she  was  missed  et  breakfast,  as  she  would  sometimei 
oversleep  herself,  and  the  Superior  began  to  be  more 
strict,  and  always  inquired,  in  the  morning,  whether 
Jane  Bay  was  in  her  place. 

When  the  question  was  general  none  of  us  answer* 
ed ;  but  when  it  was  addressed  to  some  nun  near  her 
by  name,  as, 

**  Saint  Eustace,  is  Jane  Bay  in  her  place  P"  then 
we  had  to  reply. 

Of  all  the  scenes  that  occurred  during  my  stay  in 
the  Oonvent,  there  was  none  which  excited  the  de- 
light of  Jane  more  than  one  which  took  place  in  the 
ohapel  one  dcy  at  mass,  though  I  never  had  any  par- 
ticular reason  to  suppose  that  shehad  brought  it  about. 

Some  person  unknown  to  me  to  this  day,  had  put 
some  substance  or  other,  of  a  most  nauseous  smell, 
into  the  hat  of  a  little  boy,  who  attended  at  the  altar, 
and  he,  without  observing  the  trick,  put  it  upon  hia 
head.  In  the  midst  of  the  ceremonies  he  approached 
some  of  the  nuns,  who  were  almost  sufPocated  with 
the  odour ;  and  as  he  occasionally  moved  from  place 
to  place,  some  of  them  began  to  beckosi  to  hun  to 


ov  icABU  xomc. 


91 


Br  place  P"  then 


,A  further  off,  and  to  hold  fhdr  noaea,  with  looks 
Sliiuuast.  The  boy  was  quite  unconiBoiouB  of  the 
aaseof  the  difficulty,  and  paid  them  no  attention, 
lift  the  oonf  usion  soon  became  so  great  through  the 
Uitress  of  some,  and  the  laughing  of  others,  that  the 
Superior  noticed  the  circumstance,  and  beckoned  the 

Bvto  withdraw. 

All  attempts,  however,  to  engage  us  m  any  work, 

}rayer,  or  meditation,  were  f  ouud  lueffeotual.  When- 

Jver  the  circumstances  in  the  chapel  came  to  mind, 

Iwe  would  laugh  out.    We  had  got  into  such  a  state, 

that  we  could  not  easily  restraia  ourselves.  The  Su« 

enor,  yielding  to  necessity,  allowed  us  recreation  for 

16  whole  day. 

The  Supenor  used  sometimes  to  send  Jane  to  in« 
Istractthe  novices  in  their  English  prayers.  She 
would  proceed  to  the  task  with  all  seriousness ;  but 
sometimes  chose  the  most  ridiculous,  as  well  as  irre- 
verent  passages  from  the  songs,  and  other  things, 
which  she  had  sometimes  learned,  which  would  set 
U8,  who  understood  her,  laughing.  One  of  her 
{rhymes,  I  recollect,  began  with— 

**  The  Lord  of  love— look  from  above, 
Upon  this  turkey  hen  !" 
I    Jane  for  a  time  slept  opposite  to  me.  and  often  in 
the  night  would  rise,  unoDserved,  and  slip  into  my 
{bed,  to  talk  with  me,  which  she  did  in  a  low  whis- 
per, and  returned  again  with  equal  caution. 

She  would  tell  me  of  the  tricks  she  had  played,  and 
such  as  she  meditated,  and  sometimes  make  ine  laugh 
80  loud,  that  I  had  much  to  do  in  the  moruiug  with 
l>ORKinS  pardons  and  doing  penances. 

One  wmter's  day,  she  was  sent  to  light  a  fire  ;  but 
after  she  had  done  so,  remarked  privately  to  some  of 
us,  "my  fingers  were  so  cold— you'll  see  if  I  do  it 
again." 

The  next  day  there  wm  a  great  stir  in  the  house, 
because  it  was  said  that  mad  Jane  Ray  had  been 
seized  with  a  fit  while  making  a  fire,  and  she  was 


I:' 


.J  v':jii' 


r:9 


1 
'-'.111 


I  '"I 


M 


AWnjL  DX809l[^iUKSS 


taken  up  apparently  inseneible,  and  oonTeyed  to  Ui 
bed.  Sue  oomplaiued  to  me,  who  visited  her  in  the 
oourse  of  the  day,  that  she  was  likely  to  starve,  ai 
food  was  denied  her ;  aud  I  was  persuaded  to  piu  aj 
Btockin{<  uuder  my  dross,  and  secretly  put  food  into 
it  from  the  table.  This  I  afterwards  carried  to  her 
aud  relieved  her  wauts. 

One  of  the  thiugs  which  I  had  blamed  Jane  most 
for,  was  a  dispositiou  to  quarrel  with  auy  uuu  who 
seemed  to  be  wiuuiug  the  favour  of  the  Superior. 
She  would  never  rest  uutil  she  had  brought  such  a 
one  into  some  difficulty. 

We  were  allowed  but  little  soap  ;  and  Jane,  when 
she  found  her  supply  nearly  gouu,  would  take  the 
first  piece  she  coula  liud.  One  day  there  was  a  gen- 
eral  search  made  for  a  large  piece  that  was  missed; 
when,  soon  after  I  had  beeu  searched,  Jaue  Bay  pass- 
ed me,  and  slipped  it  into  my  pocket ;  she  soou  after 
was  searched  herself,  aud  then  secretly  came  for  it 
again. 

While  I  recall  these  particulars  of  our  Nunnery, 
and  refer  so  often  to  the  conduct  and  ianguaf^e  of 
one  of  the  nuns,  1  cannot  speak  of  some  tiiiu*,'s,  which 
I  believed  or  sucjpected,  on  account  of  my  want  of 
sufficient  knowledge.  But  it  is  a  pity  you  have  uot 
Jane  Hay  for  a  witness ;  she  knew  many  things  of 
which  I  am  ij^uorant.  She  must  be  in  possession  of 
facts  that  should  be  known.  Her  lon^  residence  in 
the  Convent,  her  habits  of  roaming  about  it,  and  of 
observing  everything,  must  have  made  her  acquaint- 
ed with  things  which  would  be  heard  with  interest. 
J  always  felt  as  if  she  knew  everything.  She  would 
often  go  and  asten,  or  look  through  tiie  cracks  into 
the  Superior's  room,  while  any  of  the  priests  were 
closeted  with  hor,  aud  sometimes  would  come  and 
tell  me  what  she  witnessed.  I  felt  myself  bound  to 
confess  on  such  occasions,  and  always  did  so. 

She  knew,  however^  thai  J  only  told  it  to  the  priest, 
9t  to  the  Superior^  aud  without  mentioiung  the  name 


09  XASU  XOKS. 


9> 


hroald  Teplj)  *'  ^^  ^^  better  for  you  to  confess  it  than 
for  me."  I  thus  beoamo,  even  against  my  will,  in- 
formed of  scenes  supposed  by  the  actors  of  them  to 

be  secret.  ,   ,         .  , 

Jane  Bay  once  persuaded  me  to  accompany  her 
iuto  the  Superior's  room,  to  hide  with  her  under  tlie 
sofa,  and  await  the  appearance  of  a  visitor  whom  she 
expected,  that  we  might  overhear  what  passed  be- 
tweeu  them.  We  had  been  lonf(  concealed,  when  the 
Superior  came  in  aloue,  and  sat  for  some  time ;  when, 
feariug  she  mi^ht  detect  us  in  the  stillness  that  pre- 
vailed, we  bej^an  to  repent  of  our  temerity.  At 
length,  however,  she  suddenly  withdrew,  and  thus 
afforded  us  a  welcome  opportunity  to  escape. 

I  was  passinj^  one  day  through  a  part  of  the  cellar, 
where  I  had  not  often  occasion  to  go,  when  the  toe 
of  my  shoe  hit  something.  I  tripped  and  fell  down. 
I  rose  again,  and  holding  my  lamp  to  see  what  had 
caused  my  fall,  I  found  an  iron  ring,  fastened  to  a 
small  square  trap-door.  This  I  had  the  curiosity  to 
raise,  and  saw  four  or  five  steps  down,  but  there  was 
not  li«?ht  enough  to  see  more,  and  I  feared  to  be  no- 
ticed by  somebody  and  reported  to  the  Sup»jrior ;  so, 
closii)i.r  tiie  door  again,  I  left  the  spot.  At  first  I 
could  not  imagine  the  use  of  such  a,  passage  ;  but  it 
afterwards  occurred  to  me  that  it  might  open  to  the 
subterranean  passage  to  the  Seminary;  ft)r  I  never 
could  before  account  for  the  appearance  of  many  of 
the  priests,  who  often  appeared  and  disappeared 
among  us,  particularly  at  night,  wnen  I  knew  the 
gates  were  closed.  They  could,  as  I  now  saw,  come 
up  to  the  door  of  the  Superior's  room  at  any  hour ; 
then  up  the  stairs  into  our  sleeping-room,  or  where 
they  chose.  And  often  they  were  m  our  beds  before  us. 
I  ftltei; wards  ascertained  that  my  conjectures  were 
correct,  and  that  a  secret  communication  was  kept 


>  ■  ;if 


lyr-t 


■'I 


94 


▲WVUL  DXBOLOBUfiSS 


up  in  this  manner  between  these  two  institutioiis,  at 
the  end  towards  N6tre  Dame  street,  at  a  consider* 
able  depth  under  ground.  I  often  afterwards  met 
priests  in  the  cellar,  when  sent  there  for  coals  and 
other  articles,  as  they  had  to  pass  up  and  down  the 
oommon  cellar  stairs  on  their  way. 

My  wearisomd  daily  prayers  and  labours,  my  pain 
of  body  and  depressiou  of  mind,  which  were  so  much 
increased  by  peuauces  I  had  suffered,  and  those 
which  I  coDstantly  reared,  and  the  feelings  of  shame, 
remorse,  and  horror,  which  sometimes  arose,  brought 
me  to  a  state  which  I  cannot  describe. 

In  the  first  place,  my  frame  was  enfeebled  by  the 
uneasy  postures  I  was  required  to  keep  for  so  long  i 
time  during  prayers.  This  alone,  I  thought,  wu 
sufficient  to  uudermine  my  health  and  destroy  my 
life.  An  hour  and  a  half  every  morning  I  had  to  sit 
on  the  floor  of  the  community-room,  with  my  feet 
under  me,  my  body  bent  forward,  and  my  head  hang- 
ing on  one  side,  in  a  posture  expressive  of  great  hu< 
m&ity,  it  is  true,  but  very  fatiguing  to  keep  for  such 
an  unreasonable  length  of  time.  Often  I  found  it 
i!xipossible  to  avoid  falling  asleep  in  this  posture^ 
which  I  could  do  without  detection,  by  beuding  a 
little  lower  than  usual.  The  signal  to  rise,  or  the 
noise  made  by  the  n  ;  ag  of  the  other  nuns,  then  woke 
me,  and  I  got  up  with  the  rest  unobserved. 

Before  we  took  the  posture  just  described,  we  had 
to  kneel  for  a  long  time  without  bending  the  body, 
keying  quite  erect,  with  the  exception  of  the  kneei 
only,  with  the  hands  together  before  the  breast. 
This  I  found  the  most  distressing  attitude  for  me, 
and  uever  assumed  it  without  feeling  a  sharp  pain 
in  my  chest,  which  I  often  thought  would  soon  lead 
me  to  my  grave— that  is,  to  the  great  common  re« 
ceptacle  for  the  dead  under  the  chapel.  And  this  up- 
right kD«eliag  poeture  wo  were  obliged  to  resume 
as  soon  9»  we  rose  from  the  half-sitting  posture 
first  mentioned,  to  that  I  usually  felt  myself  ex* 


OF  lOBU  HOHK. 


w 


bausted  and  near  to  fainting  before  the  oondnaioii 
of  moruiug  serrioes. 

I  found  the  meditations  extremely  tedious,  and 
often  did  I  sink  iuto  sleep,  while  we  were  all  seated 
in  silence  on  the  floor.  When  required  to  tell  my 
meditations,  as  it  was  thought  to  be  of  no  great  im- 
portance what  we  said,  I  sometimes  found  that  I  had 
nothing  to  tell  but  a  uream,  and  told  that,  which 
passed  off  very  well. 

Jane  Bay  appeared  to  be  troubled  still  more  than 
myself  with  wandering  thoughts ;  and  when  blamed 
for  them,  would  reply,  *'  I  begin  very  well ;  but  di- 
rectly I  begin  to  think  of  some  old  friend  of  mine, and 
my  tnoughts  go  a  wandering  from  one  country  to 
another. 

Sometimes  I  confessed  my  falling  asleep  ;  and  of- 
ten the  priests  have  talked  to  me  about  the  sin  of 
sleeping  in  the  time  of  meditation.  At  last,  one  of 
them  proposed  to  me  that  I  should  prick  myself  with 
a  pin,  which  is  often  done,  and  so  rouse  myself  for  a 
tmse. 

My  close  confinement  in  the  Convent,  and  the 
want  of  opportunities  to  breathe  the  open  air,  might 
have  provtid  more  injurious  to  me  than  they  did, 
had  I  not  been  employed  a  part  of  mytime  in  more 
active  labours  than  those  of  sewing,  &c.,  to  which  I 
was  chiefly  confined.  I  took  part  occasionally  in 
some  of  the  heavy  work,  as  washing,  &c. 

The  events  whicli  I  am  now  to  relate  occurred 
about  five  months  after  my  admission  into  the  Con- 
vent as  a  nun ;  but  I  cannot  fix  the  time  with  pre- 
cision, as  I  know  not  of  anything  that  took  place 
in  the  world  about  the  same  period.  The  circum- 
stance I  clearlv  remember;  but  as  I  have  else- 
where remarked,  we  were  not  accustomed  to  keep 
any  account  of  time. 

Information  was  given  to  us  one  day,  that  ano- 
ther novice  was  to  be  admitted  among  us ;  and  we 
were  required  to  remember  and  meatioa  her  often 


*    •  i; i''. 


96 


AVFtTIi  SnCIiOStrBBB 


i^i*:' 


>i. 


N 


r 


in  our  i)rayerft,  that  she  might  have  faithf olnen  in 
the  servioe  of  her  holy  spouse.  No  inf  ormatioii  was 
given  U8  concerning  her  beyond  this  fact ;  not  a 
word  about  her  age,  name,  or  nation.  On  all  simi. 
lar  occasions  the  same  course  was  pursued,  and  all 
that  the  nuns  ever  learnt  concerning  one  another 
was  what  they  might  discover  by  being  togetiier, 
and  which  usually  amounted  to  little  or  nothing. 

When  the  day  of  her  admission  arrived,  though  I 
did  not  witness  the  ceremony  in  the  chapel,  it  was 
a  gratification  to  us  all  on  one  account,  because  wo 
were  always  idleased  from  labour,  and  enjoyed  a 
great  recreation  day. 

Our  new  sister,  when  she  was  introduced  to  tie 
"  holy*'  s<.ciety  of  us  **  saints,"  proved  to  be  yonng, 
of  aViyut  the  middle  size,  and  very  good  lookmgfor 
a  0^  na^lian  ;  fori  soon  ascertained  that  she  was 
mie.  o'l  my  own  countrywomen.  Tho  Canadian  fe- 
?T\r>»t«  are  generally  not  handsome.  I  never  learnt 
h^.t  «ame  nor  anything;  of  her  history.  She  had 
^Imif'bii  ^^t.  Martin  for  her  nun  name.  She  wasad- 
iivltted  in  the  morinnjr,  and  appeared  melancholy  all 
diy.  This  I  observed  was  always  the  cnse;  and 
tho  remarks  made  by  others,  led  nio  t()  believe  that 
they,  and  all  they  had  seen,  had  foU  nud  and  miser- 
able for  a  Ioniser  or  shorter  time.  Even  the  Su{  eri* 
or,  as  it  may  be  recollected,  confessed  to  nie  that  she 
experienced  the  same  feelings  when  she  was  receiv- 
ed. When  bed-time  arrived,  she  proceeded  to  the 
chamber  with  the  rest  of  us,  and  was  assigned  a  bed 
on  the  side  of  the  room  opposite  my  own,  and  a 
little  beyond.  The  nuns  were  al!  soon  in  bed,  the 
usual  silence  ensued,  and  I  was  makinj?  my  cus- 
tomary mental  prayers,  ^md  composing  myself  to 
sleep,  when  I  heard  the  most  piercing  and  heart* 
rending  shrieks  proceed  from  our  new  comrade. 
Every  nun  seemed  to  rise  as  if  by  one  impulse,  for 
no  one  could  hear  such  sounds,  especially  in  fiuch 
total  tilenoe,  without  being  greatly  excited*    A 


i 


OV  UABU.  Home 


97 


4^'^-;'! 


gtneral  nolle  succeeded,  for  many  voicet  ipoke  to- 
gether, u'tering  oriee  of  •nrpriee,  compasnon,  or 
fear.  It  was  in  vain  for  the  night-watch  to  expect 
dlence :  for  once  we  forgot  rules  and  penances,  and 

gave  Tent  to  our  feelings,  and  she  could  do  nothing 
ut  call  for  the  Superior. 

I  heard  a  man's  voice  mingled  with  the  cries  and 
shrieks  of  the  nun.  Father  Quihlier,  ef  the  Semin- 
ary, I  had  felt  confident,  was  ia  the  Superior's  room 
at  the  time  when  we  retired ;  and  several  of  the 
HODS  afterwards  assured  me  that  it  was  he.  The 
Superior  soon  made  her  appearance,  and  in  a  hardi 
manner  commanded  silence.  I  heard  her  threaten 
gftgp^inff  her,  aud  then  say,  **  Tou  are  no  hetter  than 
anybody  else,  aud  if  you  do  not  obey,  you  shall  be 
sent  to  the  cells." 

One  young  girl  was  taken  into  the  Convent  dor* 
iug  my  abode  there,  under  peculiar  circumstances. 
I  was  acquainted  with  the  whole  affair,  as  I  was 
employed  to  act  a  part  in  it. 

Amoug  the  novices  was  a  young  lady,  of  about 
seventeen,  the  daughter  of  an  old  rich  Canadian. 
She  had  been  remarkable  for  nothing  that  I  know 
of,  except  the  liveliness  of  her  disposition.  The 
Superior  once  expressed  to  us  a  wish  to  have  her 
take  the  veil,  though  the  girl  herself  had  never  such 
intention  that  I  know  of.  Why  the  Superior  wished 
to  receive  her  I  could  only  conjecture.  One  reason 
might  have  been,  that  she  expected  to  receive  a  con- 
siderable sum  from  her  father.  She  was,  however, 
strongly  desirous  of  having  the  girl  in  our  commu- 
nity, aud  ouG  day  said—**  Let  us  take  her  in  by  a 
trick,  and  tell  the  old  man  she  felt  too  humble  to 
take  the  veil  in  public." 

In  obedience  to  the  directions  of  the  Superior  we 
exerted  ourselves  to  make  her  contented,  especially 
when  she  was  first  received,  when  we  got  round 
her  and  told  her  we  had  felt  so  for  a  time,  but  hav- 
lag  MTJce  become  ccquainted  with  the  happineta  of 
171  8 


■^Ar4 


,;^..> 


08 


▲WFUL  DI8OLO0UBB8 


f 


I.. 


f|. 


nan*8  life,  were  perfectly  content,  and  would  neTer 
be  willing  to  leaye  the  OonTent.  An  exception 
teemed  to  be  made  in  her  fayonr,  in  one  respect ;  for 
I  belicTe  no  criminal  attempt  was  made  upon  her, 
until  she  had  been  for  aome  time  an  inmate  of  the 
nunnery. 

Soon  after  her  reception,  or  rather  her  forcible  en* 
try  into  the  Conyent,  her  father  called  to  make  en* 
quiries  about  his  daughter.  The  Superior  first  spoke 
with  him  herself ,  and  then  called  us  to  repeat  her 
plausible  story,  which  I  did  with  accuracy.  If  I  had 
wished  to  say  anything  else,  I  neyer  should  have  dared, 

We  told  the  foolish  old  man,  that  his  daughter, 
whom  we  all  affectionately  loyed,  had  loDg  dear* 
ed  to  become  a  nun,  but  had  been  too  humble  to 
wish  to  appear  baf  ore  spectators,  and  had,  at  her 
own  desire,  been  f ayoured  with  a  priyate  admission 
into  the  community. 

The  benefit  conferred  upon  himself  and  his  fami* 
ly,  by  this  act  of  self -consecration,  I  reminded  him, 
must  be  truly  great  and  yaluable ;  as  eyery  family 
who  furnishes  a  priest  or  a  nun,  is  justly  looked  up- 
on as  receiying  the  peculiar  f ayour  of  he&ven  on 
that  account.  The  old  Canadian,  firmly  belieying 
eyery  word  I  was  forced  to  tell  him,  took  the  event 
Ei  a  great  blessing,  and  expressed  the  greatest  readi- 
ness to  pay  more  than  the  customary  fee  to  the  Con- 
Tent.  After  the  interyiew,  he  withdrew,  promising 
soon  to  return,  and  pay  a  handsome  sum  of  money 
to  the  Conyent,  which  he  performed  with  all  des- 
patch and  the  greatest  cheerfulness.  The  poor  ^t\ 
never  heard  that  her  father  had  taken  the  trouble 
to  call  and  see  her,  much  less  did  she  know  any 
thing  of  the  imposition  passed  upon  her.  She  remain- 
ed in  the  Convent  when  I  left  it. 

The  youngest  girl  who  ever  took  the  yeil  of  onr 
iiiterhood,  was  only  fourteen  years  of  age,  and  oou- 
ridered  yery  pioni.  She  lived  but  a  short  time.  I 
was  told  that  she  was  ill-treated  by  the  priests,  and 
believed  her  death  was  in  consequence. 


Of  ULBlk  ICOVX. 


M 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Inflaeneing  noTioes— Diffioultv  of  oonviaeiiig  penons  from 
the  United  States— Tale  of  the  Bishop  in  the  dty— The 
Bishop  in  the  conyent— The  prisoners  in  the  cells— 
Praotice  in  singing— Narrativei—Jane  Bay's  hymnt*-- 
The  Superior's  best  trick. 

It  was  considered  a  great  duty  to  exert  ourselves  to 
inflaence  noyices  iu  xayour  of  the  Boman  Catholic 
zeligioQ ;  and  different  nuns  were,  at  different  times, 
charged  to  do  what  they  could,  by  conyersation,  to 
make  favourable  impressions  on  the  minds  of  some, 
who  were  particularly  indicated  to  us  by  the  Su- 
perior. I  often  heard  it  remarked,  that  those  who 
were  influenced  with  the  greatest  difficulty,  were 
young  ladies  from  the  United  States ;  and  on  some  of 
those,  great  exertions  were  made. 

Cases  in  which  citizens  of  the  States  were  said  to 
have  been  converted  to  the  Boman  Catholic  faith 
were  sometimes  spoken  of ,  and  always  as  if  they 
were  considered  highly  important. 

The  Bishop,  as  we  were  told,  was  in  the  public 
square,  on  the  dav  of  an  execution,  when,  as  he 
said,  a  stranger  looked  at  him  iu  some  peculiar 
manner,  which  made  him  confidently  believe  God 
intended  to  have  him  converted  by  his  means. 
When  he  went  home  he  wrote  a  letter  for  him,  and 
the  next  day  he  found  him  again  in  the  same  place, 
and  gave  him  the  letter,  which  led  to  his  becoming 
a  Roman  Catholic.  This  man,  it  was  added,  proved 
to  be  a  citizen  of  the  States. 

The  Bishop,  as  I  have  remarked,  was  not  very  dig- 
nified on  all  occasions,  and  sometimes  acted  in  such  a 
manner  as  would  not  nave  appeared  well  in  public. 

One  day  I  saw  him  preparing  for  mass ;  and  be- 
cause he  had  some  difficulty  in  getting  on  his  robes, 
showed  evident  signs  of  auger.  One  of  tiie  nuns 
remarked :  **  The  Sishop  is  going  to  perform  a  pas- 
sionate moss."  Some  of  the  others  exclaimed :  "  Are 


I'M 


Hin  1--: 


;';'>>*!  if 


u 


P! 


100 


Jl'WWUL  DX8OLOSUBS8 


■■■I   ■ 


r  1   » 


n 


r.1    ^ 


r 

I"' 

1 

'4v 

S:.;. 

wu 

(  ; 

m 

1 
I' 

you  not  athamod  to  apeak  thus  of  my  lor^  f '  And 
•he  waa  rewarded  witn  a  penance. 

But  it  miffht  be  hoped  that  the  Bishop  would  be 
free  from  the  crimes  of  which  I  have  declared  so 
many  prietts  to  have  been  guilty.  I  am  far  from 
entertaining  such  charitable  opinions  of  him ;  and  I 
had  good  reasons,  after  a  time. 

I  was  often  required  to  sleep  on  a  sofa,  in  t:io  room 
of  the  present  Superior,  as  I  may  have  already  men. 
tioued. 

One  night,  not  lonp^  after  I  was  first  introduceil 
there  for  that  purpose,  and  within  the  first  twelve 
months  of  my  wearing  the  veil,  having  retired  aa 
osual,  at  about  half-past  nine,  not  lon^  after  we  had 

got  into  bed,  the  alarm-bell  from  without,  which 
angs  over  the  Superior's  bed,  was  rung.  She  told 
me  to  see  who  was  there ;  and  going  down,  I  heard 
the  signal  given,  which  I  have  before  mentioned. » 
peculiar  kind  of  hissing  sound  made  through  the 
teeth.  I  answered  with  a  low  **  Hum— hum ;"  and 
then  opened  the  door.  It  was  Bishop  Lartique,  the 
present  Bishop  of  Montreal.  He  said  to  me,  "  Are 
you  a  Novice  or  a  Ileceived  ?"  meaning  a  Keceived 
nun.    I  answered,  *^  a  Received.' 

He  then  requested  me  to  conduct  him  to  the  Supe- 
rior's room,  which  I  did.  He  went  to  the  bed,  drew 
the  curtains  behind  him,  and  I  lay  down  a^ain  upon 
the  sofa,  until  morning,  when  the  Superior  called  me, 
at  an  early  hour,  about  daylight,  and  directed  me  to 
i^how  him  the  door,  to  which  I  conducted  him,  and 
he  took  his  departure. 

I  continued  to  visit  the  cellar  frecjuently,  to  carry 
ap  coal  for  the  fires,  without  anything  more  than  s 
general  im{)ressiou  that  there  were  two  nuns  some- 
where imprisoned  in  it.  One  day,  while  there  on  my 
usual  errand,  I  saw  a  nun  standing  on  the  right  of 
the  cellar,  in  front  of  one  of  the  cell  doors  I  had  be* 
fore  observed ;  she  was  apparently  engaged  with 
something  within.     This  attracted  my  attentioiu 


i.j|»-, 


,:iX 


OF  MAJIIA  HONZ. 


101 


ijloiHr'   And 

lishop  would  be 

lave  declared  80 

I  am  far  from 

8  of  him ;  and  I 

Bof  a,  in  t  !iO  room 
.ve  already  men- 

first  introduce)! 
the  tirst  twelve 
.viiig  retired  aa 
)n^  after  we  had 
without,  which 
run  fir.  She  told 
g  down,  I  heard 
ire  mentioned.  ^ 
.de  through  the 
m — hum ;"  and 
p  Lartique,  the 
aid  to  me,  "  Are 
ning  a  Beceived 


t 


lim  to  the  Sape* 

0  the  bed,  drew 
own  a^aiii  upon 
)erior  called  me, 

1  directed  me  to 
ucted  him,  and 

uently,  to  carry 
ngmore  than  a 
;wo  nuns  some- 
\i\e  there  on  my 
on  the  right  of 
doors  I  had  be* 
eogaged  with 
my  attention* 


The  door  appeared  to  close  in  a  small  recess,  and  whs 
i  t»  ened  with  a  stout  iron  bolt  on  the  outside,  the 
ebd  of  which  was  secured  by  being  let  into  a  hole  in 
the  stonework  which  formed  the  posts.  The  door. 
which  was  of  wood,  was  sunk  a  few  inches  beyond 
the  stonework,  which  rose  and  formed  an  arch  over- 
head. Above  the  bolt  was  a  small  window,  supplied 
with  a  fine  gri  ting,  which  swung  open,  a  small  bolt 
havinjr  been  removed  from  it,  on  the  outside.  The 
nun  I  had  obsorvt'd  seemed  to  be  whispering  with 
some  person  withii  throuj^h  the  little  window ;  but 
T  hastened  to  get  my  coal,  and  left  the  cellar,  pre- 
suming that  was  the  prison.  When  I  visited  the 
plac»'  again,  being  alone,  I  ventured  to  the  spot,  de- 
termined to  learn  the  truth,  presumin"^  hat  the  im- 
prisoned nuns,  of  whom  the  Superior  had  told  me  on 
my  admission,  were  confined  there.  I  spoke  at  the 
windovv  where  I  had  seen  the  uuti  standing,  and 
heard  a  voice  reply  in  a  whisper  The  aperture  was 
BO  small,  and  the  place  so  dark,  t  hat  I  could  see  no- 
body ;  but  I  learnt  that  a  poor  wretch  was  confined 
there  a  prisoner.  I  feared  that  I  might  be  discover- 
ed, and  after  a  few  words,  which  I  tnought  could  do 
no  harm,  I  withdrew. 

My  curiosity  was  now  alive  to  learn  everything  I 
could  about  so  mysterious  a  subject.  I  made  a  few 
inquiries  of  St.  Xavier,  who  only  informed  me  that 
they  were  punished  for  refusing  to  obey  the  Supe- 
rior, Bishop,  and  Priests.  I  afterwards  found  that 
the  other  nuns  were  acquainted  with  the  fact  I  had 
just  discovered.  All  I  could  learn,  however,  was 
that  the  prisoner  in  the  cell  whom  I  had  just  spoken 
with,  and  another  in  the  cell  just  beyond,  had  been 
00!  ^ned  there  several  years  without  having  been 
taken  out ;  but  their  names,  connexions,  offences, 
and  everything  else  relating  to  them,  I  could  never 
learn,  and  am  still  as  ignorant  of  as  ever.  Some 
conjectured  that  they  bad  refused  to  comply  with 
some  of  the  rules  of  the  Convent,  or  requisitions  of 


m 

:''! 


•W- 


'I'll 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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^ 


1.0 


I.I 


11.25 


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US.    12.0 


U    116 


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Photographic 

ScMices 
Corporation 


4 


^^JX^ 


33  WIST  MAIN  STMH 

WIBSTIR,N.Y.  )45M 

(71«)  •72-4503 


% 


102 


▲WfUL  DI80LOSUBS8 


fh#  Superior;  othmi  that  they  were  heuesiet  whoN 
ptojpmy  wu  desired  for  the  Oonyent  and  who 
would  not  consent  to  sign  deeds  of  it  Some  of  the 
nuns  informed  me,  that  the  severest  of  their  suffer- 
ings arose  from  fear  of  supernatural  heings. 

I  often  spoke  with  one  of  them  in  passing  near 
their  cells,  when  on  errands  in  the  cellar,  hut  never 
ventured  to  stop  long,  or  to  press  my  inauiries  vqtj 
far.  Besides,  I  found  her  reserved,  and  little  dis- 
posed to  converse  freely,  a  thing  I  could  not  wonder 
at  when  I  considered  her  situa^on,  and  the  diarac- 
ter  of  persons  around  her.  She  spoke  like  a  woman 
in  feeble  health,  and  of  broken  spirits.  I  occasion- 
ally saw  other  nuns  speaking  to  them,  particularly 
at  meal  times,  when  they  were  regularly  furnished 
with  food,  which  was  such  as  we  ourselves  ate. 

Their  cells  were  occasionally  cleaned,  and  then  the 
doors  were  opened.  I  never  looked  into  them,  but 
was  informed  that  the  ground  was  their  only  floor. 
I  presumed  that  they  were  furnished  with  straw  to 
lie  upon,  as  I  always  saw  a  quantity  of  old  straw 
scattered  about  that  part  of  the  cellar,  after  the  cells 
had  been  cleaned.  1  once  inquired  of  one  of  them 
whether  they  could  converse  together,  and  she  re- 
plied that  they  could,  through  a  small  opening  be- 
tween their  cells,  which  I  could  not  see. 

I  once  inquired  of  the  one  I  spoke  with  in  passing, 
whether  she  wanted  anything,  and  she  replied,  **  Tell 
Jane  Bay  I  want  to  see  her  a  moment  if  she  can  sUp 
away.' -  When  I  went  up  I  took  an  opportunity  to 
deliver  my  message  to  Jane,  who  concerted  with  me 
a  signal  to  be  used  in  future,  in  case  a  similar  re* 
*  quest  should  be  made  through  me.  This  was  a  sly 
wink  at  her  with  one  eye,  accompanied  with  a  slight 
toss  of  the  head.  She  then  sought  an  opportunity  to 
visit  the  oeilar,  and  was  soon  able  to  hold  ft!i  inter- 
view with  the  poor  prisoners,  without  being  noticed 
by  anv  one  but  myself.  I  afterwards  learnt  that 
inad  Jane  Bay  was  not  so  mad  but  she  could  feel  for 


t«  ?'. 


-l*V 


or  XAiu  Komc. 


103 


,        whole 
i§  and  who 
,  Soine  of  the 
f  their  suffer. 
mga. 

pasBing  near 
fj  but  never 
'^quiries  rsry 
^a  little  du. 
not  wonder 
the  charac- 
^e  a  woman 
I  occasion- 
partioularly 

•iy  furnished 
ves  ate. 
and  then  the 
to  them,  but 
r  only  floor. 
1th  straw  to 
f  old  straw 
cter  the  cells 
one  of  them 
and  she  re- 
opening be* 

^  in  passing, 
alied, «  Tell 
ihe  can  slip 
ortuuitj  to 
Bd  with  me 
similar  re* 
i  wasaslj 
ith  a  slight 
>rtiinity  to 
I  a!i  inter- 
m  noticed 
Barnt  that 
Id  ted  for 


|[|oie  miserable  beings,  and  canr  through  measures 
Icirtbeiroomlort  Sne  wonld  often  Tisn  them  witii 
l^paihiBing  words,  and  when  necessary,  ooneeal 
pirt  of  her  food  while  at  table,  and  seoretlv  oonvey  it 
mto  tiieir  dungeons.  Sometimes  we  would  combine 
for  such  an  object ;  and  have  repeatedly  aided  her  in 
thus  obtaining  a  larger  supply  of  food  than  they  had 
been  able  to  ^tain  from  others. 

I  frequently  thought  of  the  two  nuns  confined  in 
the  cells,  and  occasionally  heard  something  said 
about  them,  but  very  little.  Whenever  I  visited  th» 
cellar  and  thought  it  safe,  I  went  up  to  the  first  of 
them  and  spoke  a  word  or  two,  and  usually  got  sonie 
brief  reply,  without  ascertaining  that  any  particular 
change  took  place  with  either  of  them.  The  one  with 
whom  alone  X  ever  conversed,  spoke  English  perfect- 
ly well,  and  French  I  thought  as  well.  I  supposed 
she  must  have  been  well  educated,  for  I  could  not 
tell  which  was  her  native  language.  I  remember 
that  she  frequently  used  these  words  when  I  wished 
to  say  more  to  her,  and  which  alone  showed  that  she 
was  constantly^  afraid  of  punishment,  **  Oh,  there's 
somebody  coming— do  go  away  I"  I  have  been  told 
that  the  other  prisoner  also  spoke  English. 

It  was  impossible  for  me  to  form  any  certain  opi- 
nion about  the  size  or  appearance  of  uiose  two  mi* 
serable  creatures,  for  their  cells  were  perfectly  dark^ 
and  I  never  caught  the  slightest  glimpse  even  of  their 
faces.  It  is  probable  they  ^ere  women  not  above 
the  middle  size,  and  my  reason  for  this  presumption 
is  the  following :  I  was  sometimes  appointed  to  lay 
out  the  clean  dothes  for  all  the  nuns  in  the  Oonvent 
on  Saturday  evening,  and  was  alw^s  directed  to  lay 
by  two  suits  for  the  prisoners.  Particular  orders 
were  given  to  select  the  largest  sized  garments  lor 
several  tall  nuns ;  but  nothing  of  the  kind  was  ever 
said  in  relation  to  the  clothes  for  those  in  the  cells. 

1  had  not  been  long  a  veiled  nun,  before  I  request- 
ed otttie  Superior  pennission  to  confess  to  the  '*Baint^ 


104 


AiWTtHi  mSOBOflPIBW 


I- 


Boa  BMleur/'  (Holr  Gk>od  Shepheid)  that  is,  iU 
iMrgfewioiis  and  namden  nun  whom  I  had  hoard  of 
while;a  noTioe.  I  knew  of  aeyeral  others  who  had 
confessed  to  her  at  different  times,  and  of  some  who 
had  sent  their  clothes  to  be  touched  by  her  when 
^ey  were  sick ;  and  I  felt  a  desire  to  nnburdeu  my 
heart  of  certain  things,  which  I  was  loath  to  acknow- 
ledge to  the  Superior,  or  any  of  the  priests. 

The  Superior  made  me  wait  a  little,  nntil  she 
ooold  ascertain  whether  the  '*  Saint  Bon  Pasteur*' 
was  ready  to  admit  me ;  and,  after  a  time,  returned, 
and  told  me  to  enter  the  old  nuns'  room.  That 
apartment  has  twelye  beds  arranged  like  the  berths 
of  a  ship,  by  threes ;  and  as  each  is  broad  enough  to 
receive  two  persons,  twenty-four  may  be  lodged 
there,  which  was  about  the  number  of  old  nuns  in  the 
Oonvent  during  most  of  my  stay  in  it.  Near  an  op- 
posite comer  of  the  apartment  was  a  large  glass 
caae,  with  no  appearance  of  a  door,  or  other  opening, 
in  any  part  of  it ;  and  in  that  case  stood  the  vener- 
able nun^  in  the  dress  of  the  community,  with  her 
thick  veil  spread  over  her  face,  so  as  to  conceal  it 
entirely.  She  was  standing,  lor  the  place  did  not 
allow  room  for  sitting,  and  moved  a  little,  which  was 
we  only  sign  of  life,  as  she  did  not  speak.  I  fell 
upon  my  knees  before  her,  and  began  to  confess 
some  of  my  imperfections,  which  lay  heavy  upon 
mj  mind,  imploring  her  aid  and  intercession,  that  I 
might  be  ddivered  from  them.  She  appeared  to 
listen  to  me  with  patience,  but  still  never  returned  a 
word  in  reply.  I  became  much  affected  as  I  went 
on ;  at  lengUi  began  to  weep  bitterly :  and,  when  I 
wi&dreWy  was  in  tears.  It  seemted  to  me  that  my 
heart  was  remarkably  relieved,  after  tiiis  exercise ; 
and  all  ttie  requests  I  had  made,  I  found,  ae  I  believ* 
td|  strictly  IHimlled.  I  often,  afterwards,  visited  the 
old  nuns'  room  for  the  same  purpose,  and  with  simi- 
lar resnlte ;  so  that  my  belief  in  the  sanctity  of  the 
nameless  nun.  and  my  regard  lor  her  intercessioni 
Wtra  unbounaed. 


'  ^---r^r'. 


OF  lUJOJL.  ICORS. 


105 


What  is  remarkable,  though  I  repeatedly  was  sent 
kto  that  room  to  dust  it,  or  to  put  it  in  order,I  re* 
marked,  that  the  glass  case  was  vacant  and  no  signs 
were  to  be  found,  either  of  the  nun,  or  of  the  way  by 
which  she  had  left  it !  so  that  a  solemn  conclusion 
rested  upon  my  mind,  that  she  had  gone  on  one  of 
her  frequent  visits  to  heaven. 

A  priest  would  sometimes  come  in  the  daytime  to 
teach  us  to  sing,  and  this  was  done  with  some  pa« 
rade  or  stir,  as  if  it  were  considered,  or  meant  to  be 
oousidered,  as  a  thing  of  importance. 
^  The  instructions,  however,  were  entirely  repeti- 
tions of  the  words  and  tunes,  nothing  being  taught 
even  of  the  first  principles  of  the  science.  It  appeared 
to  me,  that  although  hymns  alone  were  sung,  the  ex- 
ercise was  chiefly  designed  for  our  amusement,  to 
raise  our  spirits  a  little,  which  were  apt  to  become 
depressed.  Mad  Jane  Bay  certainly  usually  treated 
the  whole  thing  as  a  matter  of  sport,  and  often  ex« 
cited  those  of  us  who  understood  English,  to  a  great 
degree  of  mirth.  She  had  a  very  fine  voice,  which 
was  so  powerful  as  generally  to  be  heard  above  the 
rest.  Sometin  es  she  would  be  silent  when  the  other 
nuns  began ;  and  the  Superior  would  often  call  ou^ 
^  Jane  Bay,  you  don't  sing.''  She  always  had  some 
trifling  excuse  ready,  and  commonly  appeared  un- 
willing to  join  the  rest. 

After  being  urged  or  commanded  by  the  Superior, 
she  would  then  strike  up  some  English  song,  or  pro« 
fane  parody,  which  was  rendered  ten  times  more  ri- 
diculous by  the  ignorance  of  the  lady  Superior  and 
the  majority  of  tiie  nuns.  I  cannot  help  laughinfjf 
now  when  I  remember  how  she  used  to  stand  with 
perfect  composure,  and  sing, 

'^  I  wish  I  was  married  and  nothing  to  rue, 
With  plenty  of  money  and  nothing  to  do." 

'*  Jane  Baj,  yon  don't  sang  right,"  the  Superior 
would  exclaim.  *'  Oh,"  she  would  reply  with  perfect 
coolness,  that  is  the  English  for 


i-iS-1 


106 


▲WVUL  DX80L08UBS8 


«  Seigneur  Dieu  de  demenoe^ 
Beooit  oe  grand  pedieur  I" 
and^Mtunff  by  her,  a  person  ignorant  of  the  Ian- 
gui^ie  would  naturally  be  imposed  upon.  It  was  ex- 
tremely difficult  for  me  to  conceal  my  laughter.  I 
haTC  always  had  greater  exertion  to  make  in  repress- 
ing it  than  most  other  persons ;  and  mad  Jane  Bay 
often  took  advantage  of  this. 

Saturday  evening  usually  brought  with  it  much 
unpleasant  work  for  some  of  us.  We  received  Sacra- 
ment every  Sunday ;  and  in  preparation  for  it,  on 
Saturday  evening,  we  asked  pardon  of  the  Superior, 
and  of  each  other,  "  for  the  scandal  we  had  caused 
them  since  we  last  received  the  Sacrament,"  and  then 
asked  the  Superior's  permission  to  receive  it  on  the 
following  day.  She  enquired  of  each  nun,  who  ne- 
oessarily  asked  her  permission,  whether  she,  naming 
her  as  Saint  somebody,  had  concealed  any  sin  that 
•hould  lunder  her  receiving  it ;  and  if  the  answer 
was  in  tiie  negative,  she  granted  her  permission. 

On  Saturday  we  were  catechised  by  a  priest,  being 
assembled  in  a  community-room.  He  sat  on  the 
right  of  the  door,  in  a  chair.  He  often  told  us  stories, 
and  frequently  enlarged  on  the  duty  of  enticing  no- 
vices into  the  nunnery.  *' Do  you  not  feel  happy,*' 
he  would  say,  '*  now  that  you  are  safely  out  ox  the 
world,  and  sure  of  heaven  P  But  remember  how 
many  poor  people  are  yet  in  the  world.  Every  no- 
vice  you  influence  to  take  the  black  veil,  will  add  to 
your  honour  in  heaven.  Tell  them  how  happy  you 
are." 

The  Superior  played  one  trick  while  I  was  in  the 
Convents  which  always  passed  for  one  of  the  most 
admirable  she  ever  carried  into  execution.  We  wete 
pretty  good  judges  in  a  case  of  this  kind ;  for,  as  may 
be  persumeo,  we  were  rendered  f amilisff  with  the 
arts  of  deception  under  so  accomplitfied  a  teacher. 

Thore  was  an  ornament  on  hand  in  tiie  Nunnery, 
of  an  extraordinary  kind,  which  was  prised  at  ten 


Of  XASU  XOXX. 


m 


k  Of  the  Ian. 
1.  It  was  ex. 
.laughter.  1 
ike  in  repress- 
'^d  Jane  Bay 

with  it  much 
Jceived  Sacra- 
tion  for  it,  on 
the  Superior. 
'  had  causea 
«t,"  and  then 
Beive  it  on  the 
nun,  who  ne- 
r  she,  naming 
B^j  sin  that 
^  the  answer 
Permission. 
»  priest^  being 
ie  sat  on  the 
^Id  us  stories^ 
f  enticing  no- 
feel  happy,'» 
>ly  out  of  the 
member  how 
•    Every  no- 
il, will  add  to 
w  happy  you 

I  was  in  the 
of  the  most 
m.  Wewete 
;  for,  as  may 
iar  with  the 
a  teacher. 
!ie  Nunnery, 
)riz6d  at  ten 


poandi;  butithad  been  (Bspdaedto  ▼iewaolong, 
fist  it  becttmio  damaged  and  quite  vnealeable.  We 
weie  one  day  Tidted  iiy  an  old  priest  from  the  ooun* 
^.  who  was  evidently  somewhat  intoxicated ;  and 
as  he  withdrew  to  go  to  his  lodgings  in  the  Seminary, 
where  the  oonntxy  priests  often  stay,  the  Superior 
oonoeiyed  a  plan  for  disposing  of  the  old  ornament. 
«  Oome,"  said  she,  **  we  will  send  it  to  the  old  priest, 
SDG  swear  he  has  Dousht  it." 

We  fdl  approved  of  the  inj^enious  device,  for  it 
evidently  classed  among  the  pious  frauds  we  had  so 
often  had  recommended  to  us,  both  by  precept  and 
example ;  and  the  ornament  was  sent  to  him  the 
next  momin{^,  as  his  property  when  paid  for.  He 
soon  came  into  the  Oonvent,  and  expressed  the 
j^eatest  surprise  that  he  had  been  charged  with  pur- 
$basm^  su(di  a  thing,  for  which  he  had  no  need  and 
jQO  desire. 

The  Superior  heard  his  declaration  with  patience, 
but  politely  insisted  that  it  was  a  fair  bargain ;  and 
we  tnen  surrounded  the  old  priest,  with  the  strongest 
assertions  that  such  was  the  fact,  and  that  noTOdy 
would  have  thought  of  his  purchasing  it  unless  he 
had  enressly  engaged  to  taxe  it.  The  poor  old  man 
was  entirely  put  down.  He  was  certain  of  the  truth ; 
but  what  could  he  do  to  resist  or  disprove  a  direct 
falsehood  pronounced  by  the  Superior  of  a  Oonventi 
and  sworn  to  by  all  her  holy  nuns  P  He  finallv  ex- 
pressed his  conviction  that  we  were  right :  and  was 
compelled  to  pay  his  money. 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Frsqnsnoy  of  the  priests'  visits  to  the  Nunneiy— Their  ftee- 
dom  and  orimes^DifflcuIty  of  learning  their  names^ 
Their  Holy  Betreat— Objections  in  our  minds— lieana 
used  to  oounteraot  oonsoienoe— Ingenious  JLrgaments. 

SoKB  of  the  priests  from  the  Seminary  were  in  the 
Nunnery  every  day  and  night,  and  often  several  at  a 
ti^e.     I  have  seen  nearly  all  of  them  at  different 


108 


JLWVUL  OZSOLOBITBXS 


fm 


times,  tbough  there  are  abcnit  oee  hundred  and  fiffcyl 
in  the  district  of  MontieaL  There  was  a  difiereM 
in  their  condact :  thovi^  I  believe  ererj  one  of  tkem ' 
was  guilty  of  licentiottsness ;  while  not  one  did  I 
ever  see  who  maintained  a  oharaoCer  any  way  be^ 
coming  the  profession  of  a  priest.  Some  were  gross 
and  degraded  in  a  degree  which  few  of  my  readers 
can  ever  have  imagined :  and  I  should  be  unwiUiiif; 
to  offend  the  eye,  aad  corrupt  the  heart,  of  any  one, 
by  an  account  of  their  words  and  actions.  Few  ima- 
ginations can  conceive  deeds  so  abominable  as  they 
practised,  and  often  required  of  some  of  the  poor 
women,  under  the  fear  of  severe  punishments,  and 
even  of  death.  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  with  the 
slarongest  confidence,  that  although  some  of  the  nuns 
became  lost  to  every  sentiment  ol  virtue  and  honour, 
especially  one  of  the  Congregational  Nunnery  whom 
I  have  before  mentioned,  Saint  Patrick,  the  greater 
partof  them  loathed  the  practices^  which  they  were 
compelled  to  submit,  by  their  Superior  and  priests, 
who  kept  them  under  so  dreadikil  a  bondage. 

Some  of  the  priests  whom  I  saw  J  never  knew  by 
name,  and  the  names  of  others  I  did  not  leam  for  a 
time,  and  at  last  learnt  only  by  accident. 

Thev  were  always  called  *'  Mon  P^re,*'  (my  fa- 
ther,) but  sometimes  when  they  had  purchased  some- 
thing in  the  ornament-room,  they  would  give  their 
real  names,  with  directions  where  it  should  be  sent. 
Many  names  thus  learnt,  and  in  other  ways,  were 
whispered  about  from  nun  to  nun,  and  became  pretty 

generally  known.  Several  of  the  priests  some  of  us 
ad  seen  before  we  entered  the  Convent. 
Many  things  of  which  I  speak,  from  the  nature  of 
the  case,  must  necessarily  rest  chiefly  upon  my  own 
wordj  until  further  evidence  can  be  obtained ;  but 
thece  are  some  facts  for  which  I  can  aj^eal  to  the 
knowledge  of  others.  It  is  commonly  known  in 
Montreu  that  some  of  the  priests  occasionally  with- 
ixtm  from  their  customary  emplojmeiitSi  and  are 


-id«ed  and  iUt, 

*r  one  of  them' 
/any  way  be. 
Of  my  readers 
;«» of  any  one, 

f^We  as  they 

I?  of  the  poor 

Mhments,  and 

•ay  with  the 

eandltonour. 

g^Sffywhom 

*>J*«gwater 

"cJ*  they  were 

¥«  prieata, 
»Baa^0, 

ot  leacn  for  a 
it 

-w/'Cmyfa, 
J^aed  some- 
W  crive  their 
)uld  be  sent. 
^aya,  were 
^me  pretty 
)  some  of  VLB 

denature  of 
>on  Bij  own 
lined;  but 
peal  to  the 
i^aown  in 
»ally  with. 
I  and  are 


Cip  UAXOA,  VOSOC. 


109 


aol  to  be  seen  lor  some  time ;  it  being  understood 
Oil  ther  haTO  retired  for  rdigious  ttudy,  medita- 
(km,  ana  derotion,  for  the  improvement  of  their 
hearts.  Sometimes  they  are  thus  withdrawn  from 
the  world  for  three  weeks :  but  there  is  noflzed  i>eriod. 
This  was  a  f aot  I  knew  before  I  took  the  veil ;  for 
it  is  a  frequent  subject  of  remark,  that  snoh  and 
sooh  a  Father  is  on  a  '*  holy  retreat."  This  is  a  term 
which  conyeys  the  idea  of  a  religions  seclusion  from 
the  world,  for  sacred  purposes.  .On  the  re-appear- 
aace  of  a  priest  after  such  a  period,  in  the  church  or 
the  streets,  it  is  natural  to  feel  a  peculiar  impression 
of  his  devout  character— an  impression  very  different 
^m  that  conveyed  to  the  mind  who  knows  matters 

S'  B  they  really  are.  Suspicions  have  been  indulged 
y  some  in  Canada  on  this  subject,  and  facts  are 
known  bv  at  least  a  few.  I  am  able  to  speak  from 
personal  knowledge ;  for  I  have  been  a  nun  of  Soeur 
Bourgeoise. 

The  priests  are  liable,  by  their  dissolute  habits,  to 
occasional  attacks  of  disease,  which  render  it  neoes* 
sary,  or  at  least  prudent,  to  submit  to  medical  treat- 
ment. 

In  the  Black  Nunnery  they  find  private  accommo- 
dation, for  they  are  free  to  enter  one  of  the  private 
hospitals  whenever  they  please ;  which  is  a  room  set 
apart  on  purpose  for  the  accommodation  ol  the 
priests,  and  is  called  a  retreat-room.  j3  / 1  an  excuse 
18  necessary  to  blind  the  public,  and  this  they  find  in 
the  pretence  they  make  of  being  in  a  '*  Holy  Betreat." 
Many  such  cases  have  I  known ;  and  I  can  mention 
the  names  of  priests  who  have  been  confined  in  this 
Holy  Betreat.  They  are  very  carefully  attended  by 
the  Superior  and  old  nuns,  and  their  diet  consists 
mostlv  of  vegetable  soups,  &e.,  with  but  little  meat, 
and  tnat  fresh.  I  have  seen  an  instrument  of  surgery 
lying  upon  the  table  in  that  holy  room,  whieh  it  nsed 
onlv  for  particular  purposes. 

nther  Tombeau,  a  Boman  priest,  was  on  one  of 


1 .  jf  I 


:^^ 


u» 


▲WUL  DUOLOtnSSI 


•>i 


■b 


I  4* 

■  I. 


L    if 


u 


rat   ,      I?  »^ 


1    ti 
I  ' 


hit  lioly  ntreatt  about  the  time  when  I  left  the  Noil. 
neiT.  ^eie  are  aometimee  a  namber  oonfined  thwe  I 
at  the  lame  time.  The  Tiotims  of  these  priestt  fre- 
quently share  the  same  fate. 

I  have  of  ten  reflected  how  grievously  I  had  been 
deoeiyed  in  mv  opinions  of  a  nun's  condition !— All 
ttie  holiness  of  their  liyes,  I  now  saw  was  merely 
pretended.  The  appearance  of  sanctity  and  heaTen- 
Ij^-mindedness  which  they  had  shown  among  us  no* 
Tices,  I  found  was  only  a  disguise  to  oonceal  saeh 
luractices  as  would  not  be  tolerated  in  any  decent  so- 
ciety in  the  world  ;  and  as  for  joy  and  peace  like 
that  of  heayen,  which  I  had  expected  to  And  among 
them,  I  learnt  too  well  that  they  did  not  exist  there. 

The  only  way  in  which  such  uioughts  were  coun- 
teracted, was  by  the  constant  instructions  giyen  ns 
by  the  Sujperior  and  priests,  to  regard  eyery  doubt  as 
a  mortal  sin.  Other  faults  we  might  haye,  as  we 
were  told  oyer  and  oyer  again,  which  though  worthy 
of  penances,  were  far  less  sinful  than  these.  Fore 
nun  to  doubt  that  she  was  doing  her  duty  in  fulfill- 
ing her  yows  and  oaths,  was  a  heinous  offence,  and 
we  were  exhorted  always  to  suppress  our  doubts,  to 
confess  them  without  reserye,  and  dieerf uUy  submit 
to  aeyere  penances  on  account  of  them,  as  the  only 
means  of  mortifying  our  eyil  dispositions,  and  resist- 
ing the  temptations  of  the  deyil.  Thus  we  learnt  in 
a  ffood  degree  to  resist  our  minds  and  consdences, 
when  we  felt  the  rising  of  a  question  about  the  duty 
of  doing  anythin|^  required  of  us. 

To  enforce  this  upon  us,  they  employ  yarions 
means.  Some  of  the  most  striking  stones  told  us  at 
catechism  by  the  priests,  were  designed  for  this  end. 
One  of  these  I  wiu  repeat.  *^  One  day,"  as  a  priest 
assured  us,  who  was  hearing  us  si^^  the  cateohism 
on  Saturday  afternoon,  **  as  one  Monsieur  •  e  e  *, 
a  well-known  dtiien  of  Montreal,  was  wiWnc[  nesr 
the  eathedraly  ha  saw  Satan  giying  orders  to  mnu- 
merableeyil  spirits  who  were  assembled  arooad 


or  icAStA  xoirt* 


lit 


iy  I  had  bean 
"tnditioii  I^All 
was  merely 
and  hearea* 
among  ub  no* 
>  oonoealtnch 
any  decent  so- 
ya peace  like 
to  find  among 

lot  exist  there, 
its  were  ooon- 
Btions  given  as 
erery  doubt  as 
ft  hare,  as  we 
though  worthy 
these.    For  a 
luty  in  fulfill, 
us  offence,  and 
our  doubts,  to 
erf ully  submit 
n,  as  the  only 
>ns,  and  resist* 
IS  we  learnt  in 
1  oonsdenoei, 
•bout  the  dtt^ 

iploy  Tarious 
nestoldusat 
d  for  this  end. 
r,"  as  a  priest 
he  eateohism 
ieur  •  ♦  ♦  ♦, 
waUdni^near 
ders  to  mnu- 
blod  around 


Uto.  Being  afraid  of  being  seen,  and  yet  wishing 
1o  obserre  what  was  done,  he  hid  himself  where  he 
soald  obserre  all  that  passed.  Satan  despatched 
hii  devils  to  different  parts  of  the  dty,  with  direc- 
tions to  do  their  best  lor  him  ;  and  they  returned 
in  a  short  time,  bringing  in  reports  of  their  success 
in  leading  persons  of  different  classes  to  the  com- 
miMion  of  vaTious  sins,  which  they  thought  would 
be  agreeable  to  their  master.  Satan,  howeyer,  ez« 
inessed  his  dissatirfactioD,  and  ordered  them  out 
again;  but  just  then  a  spirit  from  the  Black  Nun- 
nery came,  who  had  not  been  seen  before,  and  stated 
that  he  had  been  trying  for  seven  years  to  persuade 
one  of  the  nuns  to  doubt,  and  had  just  succeeded. 
Satan  received  the  intelligence  with  the  highest  plea- 
sure ;  and  turning  to  the  spirits  around  nim,  said : 
^  You  have  not  half  done  your  work,— he  has  done 
muc^  more  than  all  of  you  put  together.' " 

In  spite,  however,  of  our  mstruotions  and  warn- 
ings, our  fears  and  penances,  such  doubts  would  ob- 
trude ;  and  I  have  often  indulged  them  for  a  time, 
and  at  length,  yielding  to  the  belief  that  I  was  wrong 
in  givin(|[  place  to  them,  would  confess  them,  and  un- 
deroo  with  cheerfulness  such  new  penances  as  I  was 
loaded  with.  Others  too  would  occasionally  entor- 
tsin  and  privately  express  such  doubts ;  though  we 
had  all  been  most  solemnly  warned  by  the  oruelmur- 
der  of  Saint  Frances.  Occasionally  some  of  the  nuns 
would  go  further,  and  resist  the  restraints  of  pun- 
ishments imposed  upon  them ;  and  it  was  not  un- 
common to  hear  screams,  sometimes  of  a  most  pierc- 
ing and  terrific  kind,  from  nuns  suffering  under  dis- 
cipline. 

Some  of  my  readers  may  feel  disposed  to  exclaim 
against  me,  for  believing  things  which  will  strike 
them  as  so  monstrous  and  abominable.  To  such,  I 
would  say,  without  pretenduig  to  justify  myself.— 
yon  know  Uttle  of  the  position  in  which  I  was  plao 
«d ;  in  the  first  plaoe^  ignorant  of  any  other  reiigi» 


119 


▲WTOZi  BfiNnXMMSS 


1'^^ 


#-M 


■^if«. 


out  doelriiiei,  and  in  tho  woond,  met  ai  etery  no* 
men!  by  lonM  ingenious  argnmeni,  and  the  ezampltt 
of  a  larsa  oommunityy  who  reoeiyed  all  the  instrao- 
tiont  of  the  priette  at  of  undoubted  truth,  and  prao- 
tiled  upon  them.  Of  the  yariety  and  apedousnen 
of  the  argument!  used,  you  cannot  have  any  oor* 
reot  idea.  Thev  were  often  so  ready  with  replies, 
examples,  aneoaotes,  and  authorities,  to  enforce  their 
doctrines,  that  it  seemed  to  me  as  if  they  could  never 
have  learnt  it  all  from  books,  but  must  have  been 
taught  by  wicked  spirits.  Indeed,  when  I  reflect  up- 
on Sieir  couTcrsationSj  I  am  astonished  at  their  art 
and  address,  and  find  it  difficult  to  account  for  their 
subtletf  and  success  in  influencing  my  mind,  and 
persuading  me  to  anything  they  pleased.  It  seems 
to  me  that  hardly  anybody  woula  be  safe  in  their 
hands.  If  you  were  to  go  to  confession  twice,  I  be- 
lieve you  would  feel  very  different  from  what  yon 
do  now.  The]^  have  such  a  way  of  avoiding  one 
thing  and  speaking  of  another,  of  affirming  this,  and 
douoting  and  disputing  that,  of  quoting  auuori- 
tiesu  and  speaking  of  wonders  and  miracles  recently 
performed,  in  conflrmation  of  what  thev  teach,  as 
familiarly  known  to  persons  whom  they  call  by 
name,  and  whom  they  pretend  to  offer  as  witnesses, 
though  they  never  give  you  an  opportunity  to  speak 
with  them, — these,  and  many  other  means,  they  use 
in  such  away,  that  they  always  blinded  my  mind, 
and,  I  should  think,  would  blind  the  mindsof  others. 


CHAPTER  ^VI. 

Treatment  of  young  Infants  in  the  Convent— Talking  In 
Sleep— Amusements— Ceremonies  at  the  publio  Inteiv 
mentofdeceased  Nuns— Sudden  disappearance  of  the 
Old  Superior— Introduction  of  the  new  one-^Supersti* 
tion— Alarm  of  a  nun^Diffioulty  of  Commumcatioa 
with  other  Nuns. 

It  will  be  reoollected,  that  I  was  informed  immedi- 
ately after  receiving  the  veil,  that  infants  were  oo> 


\ 


Of  xAHi  xoirx. 


118 


a  th«  example 
|11  the  inatrao- 
thy  and  prao* 
speoioQSDen 
jftTe  any  oor* 
with  repliei, 
enforce  their 
ij  oould  never 
8t  have  heen 
In  I  reflect  ap- 
ed at  their  art 
ount  for  their 
ny  mind,  and 
iea.    It  eeemi 
safe  in  their 
>n  twice,  I  he- 
'rom  what  yon 
avoiding  one 
mingthis,  and 
>ting  antJiori- 
racles  recently 
lev  teach,  as 
they  call  by 
r  as  witnesses, 
unity  to  speak 
sans,  they  use 
led  mv  mind, 
indeox  others. 


)nt— Talking  in 
e  public  Inte^ 
•earance  of  ths 
one-^Supersti* 
OommnmeatioB 

Med  immedi- 
apts  were  oo- 


sMionally  murdered  in  the  Ck)nTeiit.  I  was  one 
day  in  the  iiiin't  piiTate  dok  room,  when  I  had  an 
epportnnity  nnsonght  for,  of  witnessing  deeds  of 
ioeh  a  nature.  It  was,  perhaps,  a  month  after  the 
death  of  St.  Frances.  Two  little  twin  babes,  the 
ebildren  of  St.  Oatherine,  were  brought  to  a  priest, 
who  was  in  the  room,  for  baptism.  I  was  present 
while  the  ceremony  was  performed,  with  the  Supe- 
rior and  BOTeral  of  the  old  nuns,  whose  namei^  I 
aerer  knew,  they  being  called  Ma  tante  (Aunt.) 

The  priests  took  turns  in  attending  to  confession 
and  catechism  in  the  Convent,  usually  three  months 
at  a  time,  though  sometimes  longer  periods.  The 
priest  then  on  duty  was  Father  Larkin.  He  is  a 
ffood-looking  European,  and  has  a  brother  who  is  a 
Professor  in  the  College.  He  first  put  oil  upon  the 
heads  of  the  infants,  as  is  the  custom  before  bap* 
tism.  When  he  had  baptised  the  children,  they  were 
taken,  one  after  another,  by  one  of  the  old  nune,  in 
the  presence  of  us  all.  She  pressed  her  hand  ujf» 
on  the  mouth  and  nose  of  the  first  so  tight  that  it 
could  not  breathe,  and  in  a  few  minutes,  when  the 
hand  was  removed,  it  was  dead.  She  then  took  the 
other,  and  treated  it  in  the  same  way.  No  sonnd 
was  heard,  and  both  the  children  were  corpses.  The 
greatest  indifference  was  shown  bv  all  present  duTb 
ing  this  operation ;  for  all,  as  I  well  knew,  were  long 
accustomed  to  such  scenes.  The  little  bodies  were 
then  taken  into  the  cellar,  thrown  into  the  pit  I 
have  mentioned,  andooveredwitha^uantity  of  lime. 

I  afterwards  saw  a  new-bom  infant  treated  in  the ' 
same  manner,  in  the  same  place  ;  but  the  actors  in 
this  scene  I  choose  not  to  name,  nor  the  ciroumT 
stances,'as  every  thing  connected  with  it  is  of  a  pe- 
soliarly  trying  and  painful  nature  to  my  own  fed- 

'These  were  the  only  instances  of  infanticide  I 
wttnessed :  and  it  seemed  to  be  merely  owing  to  ac- 
cident that  I  was  then  present.     So  far  as  I  know 
174  oj 


.    ¥ 


^11 


lt< 


Aynn  snwitMOUB 


*■     4     V ' 


j: 


HA . 


ttMVtwiMno  pains  taken  to  preMrre  secrecy  on 
thissabject;  that  is,  I  saw  no  attempt  made  to  keep 
any  inmate  of  the  Convent  in  ignorance  of  the  mnr* 
der  of  the  children.  On  the  contrary,  others  were 
told,  as  well  as  myself,  on  their  first  admission  as 
▼died  nnns,  that  all  infants  bom  in  the  place  were 
baptised  and  killed,  without  loss  of  time ;  and  I  had 
been  called  to  witness  the  murder  of  the  three  jmt 
mentioned,  only  because  I  happened  to  be  in  the 
room  at  the  time. 

That  others  were  killed  in  the  same  manner,  dur- 
ingmy  stay  in  the  nunnery,  I  am  well  assured. 

How  many  there  were  I  cannot  tell,  and  haying 
taken  no  account  of  those  I  heard  of,  I  cannot  speak 
with  precision ;  I  belieye,  however,  that  I  learnt 
through  nuns,  tJiat  at  leai^  eighteen  or  twenty  in- 
fants were  smothered,  and  secretly  buried  in  the  cel- 
lar, while  I  was  a  nun. 

,  One  of  the  effects  of  the  weariness  of  our  bodies 
and  minds,  was  our  proneness  to  talk  in  our  sleep. 
It  was  both  ludicrous  and  painful  to  hear  the  nuns 
repeat  their  prayers  in  the  course  of  ^  the  night,  as 
they  frequently  did  in  their  dreams.  Bequired  to 
keep  our  minds  continually  on  the  stretch,  both  in 
watching  our  conduct,  in  remembering  the  rules  and 
our  prayers,  under  the  fear  of  the  consequences  of 
any  neglect,  when  we  closed  our  eyes  in  sleep,  we 
ofton  went  over  again  the  scenes  of  the  day ;  and  it 
was  no  uncommon  thing  for  me  to  hear  a  nun  re- 
peat one  or  two  of  her  long  exercises  in  the  dead  of 
the  night.  Sometimes  by  the  time  she  had  finished, 
another,  in  a  different  part  of  the  room,  would  hap- 
pen to  take  a  similar  turn,  and  commence  a  similar 
redtation ;  and  I  have  known  cases  in  which  seyeral 
such  unconscious  exercises  were  performed,  all  with- 
in an  hour  or  two. 

We  had  now  and  ttien  a  recreation  day,  when  ift 
were  relieved  from  our  customary  labour,  and  from 
all|Mcayers  except  those  for  moriiing  and  evening, 


OF  VABU  voifi:. 


115 


f^  seorecyon 
made  to  keep 
oeof  themu* 
Yf  others  wete 
admission  u 
he  place  weie 
n6;andlhad 
the  three  jnit 
to  be  in  the 

manner,  dor* 
1  assured. 
,  and  having 
I  cannot  speaE 
I  that  I  learnt 
or  twenty  in- 
iedin  thecel- 

of  onr  bodies 
k  in  our  sleep, 
hear  the  nuns 
.  the  nieht,  as 
Bequlred  to 
retch,  both  in 
a^  the  rules  and 
msequences  of 
» in  sleep,  we 
be  day ;  and  it 
)ar  a  nun  re- 
in the  dead  of 
chad  finished, 
m,  would  hap* 
lence  a  similar 
which  seyeral 
medial!  with- 

day,  when  ift 
our.  and  from 
and  evening, 


aadtheehorl  ones  said  at  everj  striking  of  the 
dock.  The  greater  part  of  our  time  wai  then  oceuf- 
Ipiied  with  different  games,  particularly  backgammon 
and  draughts,  and  in  such  conversation  as  did  not 
relate  to  our  past  lives,  and  the  outside  of  th#i  Coli- 
vent  Sometimes,  however,  our  sports  would  be  in- 
terrupted on  such  days  by  the  entrance  of  one  of  the 
priests,  who  would  come  in  and  propose  that  his 
hte,  the  birthdaj  of  his  patron  saint,  should  be 
kept  by  "  the  saints."    We  saints! 

Several  nuns  died  at  different  times  while  I  was 
in  the  Convent;  how  many,  I  cannot  say,  but 
there  was  a  considerable  number.  I  might  rather 
say  many  in  proportion  to  the  number  in  the  nun- 
nery. The  proportion  of  deaths  I  am  sure  was 
very  large.  There  were  always  some  in  the  nuns' 
sick-room,  and  several  interments  took  place  in  the 
chapel. 

When  a  Black  Nun  is  dead,  the  corpse  is  dressed 
as  if  living,  and  nlaced  in  the  chapel  in  a  sitting 
posture,  within  the  railing  round  the  altar,  with  a 
book  the  hand  as  if  reading.  Persons  are  then  free- 
ly admitted  from  the  street,  and  some  of  them  read 
and  pray  before  it.  No  particular  notoriety  is  given, 
I  beheve,  to  this  exhibition  out  of  the  Oonven^  but 
such  a  case  usually  excites  some  attention. 

The  living  nuns  are  required  to  say  praymrs  for 
the  delivery  of  their  deceased  sister  from  purgatory, 
being  informed,  as  in  all  other  such  cases,  that  if 
she  is  not  there,  and  has  no  need  of  our  interces- 
sion, our  prayers  are  in  no  danger  of  being  thxown 
away,  as  they  will  be  set  down  to  th^  account  of 
some  of  our  deceased  friends,  or  at  least  to  that  of 
the  souls  which  have  no  acquaintaoices  to  pray  for 
them* 

It  was  customary  for  us  oceadonaUy  to  kneel  be* 
foreadeadnun  thus  seated  in  the  chapel,  and  I  haVa 
often  performed  that  task.  It  was  alwayi  painful, 
fpr  the  c^aitly  countenance  being  seen  whtniever  I 


r'^  ■£ 


116 


AWWfJtt  DXSCflUMtoBBS 


laiied  my  eyes^  and  the  feeling  that  the  position  and 
dz8M  were  entirely  opposed  to  every  idea  of  pro- 
priety in  snoh  a  ease,  slways  made  me  melanoholy. 

The  Superior  sometimes  left  the  Oonvent,  and  was 
iibient  for  an  hour^  or  several  hours  at  a  time,  but 
we  never  knew  of  it  until  she  had  returned,  and 
were  not  informed  where  she  had  been*  I  one  day 
had  reason  to  presume  that  she  had. recently  paid  a 
visit  to  the  priests'  farm,  though  I  had  not  direct 
evidence  that  such  was  the  fact.  The  priests'  farm 
ii  a  fine  tract  of  land  belonging  to  the  Seminary,  a 
little  distance  from  the  city,  near  the  Lachine  road, 
with  a  large  old-fashioned  edifice  upon  it*  I  hap- 
pened to  be  in  the  Superior's  room  on  the  dav  allud- 
ed to,  when  she  made  some  remark  on  the  plainness 
and  poverty  of  her  furniture.  I  replied  that  she  was 
not  prond,  and  could  not  be  dissatisfied  on  that  ao- 
oount :  she  answered.^"  No :  but  if  I  was,  how 
much  superior  is  the  furniture  at  the  priests'  farm ; 
the  poorest  room  there  is  furnished  better  than  the 
best  oi  mine." 

I  was  one  day  mending  the  fire  in  the  Superioi's 
room,  when  a  priest  was  conversing  with  her  on  the 
scarcity  of  money ;  and  I  heard  him  say  that  very 
little  money  was  received  by  the  priests  for  prayers,' 
but  that  the  principal  part  came  with  penances  and 
absolutions. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  and  unaccountable 
things  that  happened  in  the  Oonvent,  was  the  dis- 
appearance of  the  old  Superior.  She  had  performed 
her  customary  part  during  the  day,  and  had  acted 
and  appeared  j  ust  as  usual.  She  ha[d  shown  no  symp- 
toms of  ill  health,  met  with  no  particular  difQlcn% 
In  conducting  business,  and  no  agitation,  anxiety,  or 
gloom  had  been  noticed  in  her  conduct*  We  had  no 
reason  to  suprpose  that  during  that  day  she  had  ex- 
pected anvthing  particular  to  occur,  any  more  than 
the  rest  ox  us.  After  the  dose  of  our  customary  la- 
bonn  and  evening  lectures,  she  dismissed  as  to  retin 


OF  3UBZA  XOnC 


117 


to  bed,  ezaeily  in  l^er  usaal  manner.  The  next  mom* 
ing  the  bell  rang,  we  spranff  from  our  beds,  hurried 
on  our  clothes  as  usual,  aod  prooeeded  to  the  com- 
monity-room  in  double  line,  to  commence  the  morn- 
ing exercises.  There,  to  our  surprise,  we  found  Bis* 
hop  Lartique ;  but  the  Superior  was  nowhere  to  be 
Been.  The  Bishop  soon  addressed  us,  instead  of  her, 
and  informed  us,  that  a  lady  near  him,  whomhs, 
presented  to  us,  was  now  the  Superior  of  the  Con* 
vent,  and  enjoined  upon  us  the  same  respect  and 
obedience  which  we  paid  to  her  predecessor. 

The  lady  he  introduced  to  us  was  one  of  our  old* 
est  nuns,  Saint  Du*»*,  a  very  large,  fleshy  woman, 
with  swelled  limbs,  which  rendered  her  very  slow  in 
walking,  and  often  gave  her  great  distress.  Not  a 
word  was  dropi>ed  from  which  we  could  conjecture 
the  cause  of  tms  change,  nor  of  the  fate  of  the  old 
Superior.  I  took  the  first  opportunitv  to  inquire  ci 
one  of  the  nuns,  whom  I  dared  to  talk  to,  what  had 
become  of  her  ;  but  I  found  them  as  ignorant  as  my»> 
self,  though  suspicious  that  she  had  been  murdered 
by  order  of  the  Bishop.  Never  did  I  obtain  any  light 
on  her  mysterious  disappearance.  I  am  confident, 
however,  that  if  the  Bishop  wished  to  get  rid  of  her 
privately,  and  by  foul  means,  he  had  ample  oppor* 
tunities  and  power  at  his  command.  Jane  Bay,  at 
uSual,  could  not  allow  such  an  occurrence  to  pass  by 
without  intimating  her  own  suspicious  more  plainly 
than  any  other  of  the  nuns  would  have  dared  to  do* 
She  spoke  out  one  day  in  the  community-room,  and 
said,  "  I'm  going  to  have  a  hunt  in  the  cellar  for  my 
old  Superior.'* 

**  Hush,  J  ane  Bay  !"  exclaimed  some  of  the  nnns» 
"you'll  be  punished." 

**  My  mother  used  to  tell  me,"  replied  Jane,  **  never 
to  be  afraid  of  the  face  of  man." 

It  cannot  be  thought  stran^^e  that  we  were  saper* 
stUions.  Some  were  more  easily  terrified  than  otnefe 
by  unaoopuntable  sights  and  sounds ;  but  all  of  us 


\    - 


118 


AlfFUZi  BXSCELOSUBES 


'f : ,' <!?    1  ■ 


biMered  in  the  powii^  and  oooasional  appeamaoe  of 
•pirits,  and  were  ready  to  look  for  them  at  almoit 
any  time.  I  hare  seen  several  instances  of  alam 
eaused  by  snoh  superrtition,  and  have  experiehoed  it 
myself  more  than  onoe.  I  was  one  day  sitting  mend- 
ing aprons,  beside  one  of  the  old  nnns,  in  we  oom* 
mnnity-room,  while  the  litanies  were  repeating :  as 
IwasTeryeasy  to  laugh,  Saint  Ignaoe,  or  Agnes, 
eame  in,  walked  up  to  her  with  much  agitation,  and 
began  to  whisper  m  her  ear.  She  usually  talked  but 
litUe,  and  that  made  me  more  curious  to  know  what 
was  the  matter.  I  overheard  her  say  to  the  old  nan, 
in  mnch  alarm,  that  in  the  cellar  from  which  she  had 

Set  returned,  she  had  heard  the  most  dreadful  ^ans 
at  ever  eame  from  any  human  being.  This  was 
enough  to  give  me  uneasiness.  I  could  not  account 
for  &e  appearance  of  an  evil  spirit  in  any  part  of 
the  CouYent,  for  I  had  been  assured  that  the  only 
one  ever  known  there  was  that  of  the  nun  who  had 
died  with  an  nneonf  eased  sin ;  and  that  others  were 
kept  at  a  distance  by  the  holy  water  that  was  rather 
vrofusely  used  in  different  parts  of  the  nunnery. 
JttUl,  I  presumed  that  the  sounds  heard  by  Saint  If(« 
naoe  must  have  proceeded  from  some  deyu,  and  I  felt 
great  dread  at  the  thought  of  yisiting  the  cellar 
again.  I  determined  to  seek  further  information  of 
tiie  terrified  nun,  but  when  I  addressed  her  on  the 
tobjeot,  at  recreation-time,  the  first  opportunity  I 
could  find,  she  replied,  that  I  was  always  trying  to 
make  her  break  silence,  and  walked  off  to  another 
group  in  the  room  so  that  I  could  obtain  no  satisfaction. 
It  IS  remarkable  that  in  our  nunnery,  we  were  al- 
most entirely  out  off  from  the  means  of  knowing 
anything  eyen  of  each  other.  There  were  many 
nnns  whom  I  know  nothing  of  to  this  day,  after 
lunring  been  in  the  same  rooms  with  them  every  day 
and  n^ht  for  f onr  years.  There  was  a  nun,  whom 
X  sasposed  to  be  in  the  Ck)nTent,  and  whom  X  was 
nascbns  to  learn  something  about  from  12i(4i  time  of 


OF  UAMUl  ICONX. 


119 


ini  at  almo^ 
noes  of  alarm 
«periehoedit 
IsittiQff  mend- 
\  in  the  oom« 
epeating:  as 
ce,  or  Agnes, 
igitation,  and 
llj  talked  but 
[to  know  what 
the  old  nun, 
hichshehad 
'eadful^ans 
Jj      This  was 
Id  not  account 
|in  any  part  of 
that  the  only 
nun  who  had 
it  others  were 
at  was  rather 
the  nunnery. 
i  by  Saint  I^. 
5vil,andlfelt 
Iff  the  celhur 
iformation  of 
id  her  on  the 
)pportunity  I 
ay«  trying  to 
I  to  another 
» satisfaction, 
we  were  al- 
of  knowing 
were  many 
>  day,  after 
m  every  day 
niuii  whom 
rhoul  was 
tiiia  tbie  of 


my  eniranoe  as  a  novice ;  bat  I  never  was  Able  to 
pm  anvfhi^g  eonoening  her.  not  even  whether  she 
iNm  in  the  nunnery  or  not,wnether  alive  or  dead* 

Se  was  the  daughter  of  a  vl^  f amilv,  residing  at 
int  auz  Trembles,  of  whom  I  had  heard  my  mop* 
fher  speak  before  I  entered  the  Convent.  The  name 
of  her  family  I  think  was  Lafayette,  and  she  n^ 
thought  to  be  from  Europe.  She  was  known  to  have 
taken  the  Black  Veil ;  but  as  I  was  not  aoauainted 
with  the  Saint  she  had  assumed,  and  I  could  not  de» 
ioribe  her  in  '*  the  world,"  all  my  inquiries  and  ob» 
servations  proved  entirely  in  vain. 

I  had  heard  before  my  entrance  into  the  Convent, 
that  one  of  the  nuns  had  made  her  escape  from  it 
during  the  last  war,  and  once  inquired  about  her  of 
the  Superior.  She  admitted  that  such  was  the  ^lot : 
hut  I  was  never  able  to  learn  any  paitioolars  eon* 
coming  her  name,  origin,  or  manner  of  escape. 

OHAPTBB  XVn. 

Disappearance  of  nans—St.  Pierre— Gaga— My  temporary 
confinement  in  a  oell— The  cholenb  season— How  to 
aToid  it— Occupations  In  the  Oonveat  during  the  pesti- 
lence—Manufacture of  wax  candles— The  eieotion  riots 
— ^Alarm  among  the  nuns— Preparations  for  defence— 
Penances. 

I  A3i  unable  to  say  how  many  nuns  disai^)eared 
while  I  was  in  the  Convent.  There  were  several. 
One  was  a  young  lady  called  St.  Pierre,  I  think,  but 
am  not  certain  of  her  name.  There  were  two  nuns 
bv  this  name.  I  bad  known  her  as  a  novioe  with  me. 
She  had  been  a  novice  about  two  years  and  a  half 
before  I  became  one.  She  was  rather  large  without 
being  tall,  and  bad  rather  dark  hair  and  eyes.  She 
disappeared  unaccountably,  and  nothing  was  said  of 
her  except  what  I  heard  in  whispers  mm  a  few  of 
the  nuns,  as  we  found  moments  when  we  oould  ^»eak 

tinobierved. 
Some  told  me  they  thought  she  must  have  left  the 


>-:'M 


120 


AWWUh  DZ6G£0SUBS8 


\  / 


GoATent;  and  I  might  hare  sapposed  to,  had  Inot 
•QOM  time  affttrwuds  foahd  some  of  her  things  ly« 
iilg  ahout,  which  she  would,  in  sach  a  case,  doabt* 
less  have  taken  with  her.  I  had  never  known  any- 
thing more  of  her  than  what  I  conld  observe  or  con* 
jeotnre.  I  had  always,  however,  the  idea  that  her 
parents  or  friends  were  wealthj,  for  she  sometimei 
received  clothes  and  other  things  which  were  very 
lidi. 

Another  nun  named  St.  Paul,  died  suddenly,  but 
as  in  other  cases,  we  knew  so  little,  or  rather  were  so 
entirely  ignorant  of  the  cause  and  circumstances, 
that  we  could  only  conjecture ;  and  being  forbidden 
to  speak  freely  upon  that  or  any  other  subject, 
thought  little  about  it.  I  have  mentioned  that  a 
nnmSer  of  veiled  nuns  thus  mysteriously  disappear- 
ed during  my  residence  among  them.  1  cannot  per« 
haps  recall  them  all,  but  I  am  confident  there  were 
as  many  as  five,  and  I  think  more.  All  that  we  knew 
in  such  cases  was,  that  one  of  our  number  who  ap« 
peared  as  usual  when  last  observed,  was  nowhere  to 
DC  seen,  and  never  seen  again. — Mad  Jane  Bav,  on 
several  such  occasions,  would  indulge  in  her  bold. 
and,  as  we  thought,  dangerous  remarks.  She  had 
intimated  that  some  of  those,  who  had  been  for  some 
time  in  the  Convent,  were  by  some  means  removed 
to  make  room  for  new  ones ;  and  it  was  generally 
the  fact,  that  the  disappearance  of  one  and  the  intro- 
dnotion  of  another  into  our  community,  were  nearly 
at  the  same  time.  I  have  repeatedly  heard  Jane  Bay 
say,  with  one  of  her  significant  looks,  "  When  you 
linear,  somebody  else  disappears  1" 

It  is  unpleasant  enough  to  distress  or  torture  one*8 
self ;  but  there  is  something  worse  in  being  torment- 
ed by  other^  especially  when  they  resort  to  forces 
and  show  a  pleasure  in  oompelliuff  yon,  and  leave  von 
tx>  hopd  to  escape,  or  opportunify  to  resist.  I  had 
seen  the  gags  repeatedly  in  use,  and  sometimes  ap* 
plied  ymik  a  toughness  whiph  seemed  rather  inhu- 


ov  lusii  uoinL 


121 


suddenly,  but 
»ther  were  so 
Jiroumstances, 
>uig  forbidden 
>ther  subject. 
Itioned  that  a 
ifj  disappear- 
I  canuot  per. 
nt  there  were 
that  we  knew 
iber  who  ap« 
Ets  nowhere  to 
Jane  Bar,  on 
in  her  bold, 
^^B.    She  had 
i>een  for  some 
9ans  removed 
^as  ffenerally 
tnd  the  Intro- 
►  were  nearly 
urd  Jane  Bay 
"Whenyott 

torture  one's 
iuff  t<mnent- 
ort  toforo0^ 
Dd  leave  you 
ut.  I  had 
netimef  ap« 
»ther  inhtt- 


iDtn ;  but  it  it  one  thinff  to  see  and  another  thing  to 
|«sl«  Tliey  were  ready  to  recommend  a  resort  to 
oompnIioxT  measures,  and  ever  ready  to  run  for  the 
gigs.  These  were  kept  in  one  of  the  community* 
rooms,  in  a  drawer  between  two  closets;  and  there 
a  stock  of  about  fifty  of  them  were  always  kept  in 
deposit.  Sometimes  a  number  of  nuns  would  prove 
ranractoij  at  a  time ;  and  I  have  seen  battles  com- 
menced in  which  several  appeared  ion  both  sides. 
91ie  disobedient  were,  however,  soon  overpowered ; 
and  to  prevent  their  screams  beinf[  heard  beyond  the 
walls,  gtLgging  commenced  immediately.  I  have  seen 
half  a  dozen  lying  gagged  and  bound  at  once. 

I  have  been  subjected  to  the  same  state  of  invo- 
luntary silence  more  than  once ;  for  sometimes  I  be- 
came excited  to  a  state  of  desperation  by  the  measures 
used  against  me,  and  then  conducted  myself  in  a 
manner  perhaps  not  less  violent  than  some  others. 
M?  hands  have  been  tied  behind  me,  and  a  gag  put 
into  my  mouth,  sometimes  with  such  force  and  rude- 
ness as  to  separate  my  lips,  and  cause  the  blood  to 
flow  freely. 

Treatment  of  this  kind  is  apt  to  teach  submission ; 
and  many  times  I  have  acauiesced  under  orders  re- 
oeived,  or  wishes  expressed,  with  a  fear  of  a  recur- 
rence to  some  severe  measures. 

One  day  I  had  incurred  the  anger  of  the  Superior 
in  a  greater  degree  than  usual,  and  it  was  ordered 
that  I  should  m  taken  to  one  of  the  cells.  I  was 
taken  by  some  of  the  nuns,  bound  and  gagged,  car- 
ried down  the  stairs  into  the  cella^  and  laid  upon 
the  floor.  Not  long  afterwards  I  inauced  one  of  the 
nuns  to  request  the  Superior  to  come  down  and  see 
me;  and  on  making  some  acknowledgment  I  was 
released.  I  will,  however,  relate  this  story  rather 
more  In  detail. 

On  that  day  I  had  been  engM[ed  with  Jane  Bay, 
In  isanying  into  effect  a  plan  or  revenge  upon  ano* 
ftic  ponkmj  when  I  f  dl  under  the  vindictive  sidrit  of 


i2sr 


JLWfVt  SUGLOiUBSS 


It 


%  ??' 


x<- 


'  V 

t*^.t^. 

•  ^- 

-f> 

s 

:,^ 

A' 

ET" 

4*^> 

p{P- 

.-«*|-5»i- 

W 

.'  **s*« 

s»s>r 

-Sa- 

■»  \ 


•one  of  the  old  niuii,  and  laffered  MTeielj.  Th« 
Superior  ordered  me  to  the  oeUt,  end  a  aoene  of  Tio. 
lenoe  oommeaoed  which  I  will  not  attempt  to  de- 
•eribe,  nor  the  preoiae  oiroumstaBoes  whioh  led  to  it 
Bnffioe  it  to  say,  that  after  I  had  ezhantted  all  my 
itrength,  bjr  resisting  as  long  as  I  oonld,  against  sev- 
eral nuns.  I  had  mj  hands  drawn  behind  my  back,  a 
leathern  band  passed  first  round  my  thumbs,  then 
round  my  hands,  and  then  round  my  waist  and  fast* 
ened.    This  was  drawn  so  tight  that  it  out  througli 
the  flesh  of  my  thumbs,  miJcing  wounds,  the  scan 
of  which  still  remain.    A  gag  was  then  forced  into 
my  mouth,  not  indeed  so  Tiolently  as  it  sometimei 
was,  but  roughly  enough ;  after  which  I  was  taken 
by  main  force,  and  carried  down  into  the  cellar,  across 
it  almost  to  tiie  opposite  extremity,  and  brought  to 
the  last  of  the  second  range  of  cells  on  the  left  hand. 
The  door  was  opened,  and  I  was  thrown  in  with  vio- 
lence, and  left  alone,  the  door  being  immediately 
oloied,  and  bolted  on  the  outside.    The  bare  ground 
wasvnder  me,  cold  and  hard  as  if  it  had  been  beaten 
eTen,  I  lay  still  in  the  position  in  whioh  I  had  fallen, 
as  it  would  haye  been  difficult  for  me  to  move,  con- 
fined as  I  was,  and  exhausted  by  my  exertions ;  and 
the  shock  of  my  fall,  and  my  wretched  state  of  des- 
peration and  fear,  disinclined  me  from  any  further 
attempt.  I  was  in  almost  total  darkness,  there  being 
nothing  perceptible  except  a  slight  glimmer  of  li^ht 
whieh  camein  through  thelittlewindowfaraboveme. 
How  long  I  remained  in  that  condition  I  can  only 
oonjeoture.    It  seemed  to  me  a  long  time,  and  muii 
haTe  been  two  or  three  hours.    I  did  not  moye,  ex* 
neeting  to  die  there,  and  in  a  state  of  distress  whieh 
t  cannot  describe,  from  the  tight  bondage  about  mj 
hands,  and  the  gag  holding  my  jawsa^urt  at  their 
greatest  extention.    I  am  confident  I  must  haye  died 
before  morning,  if»  sm  I  then  expected,  I  had  been 
left  there  all  night.    By«and-bye,  howeyer,  the  bolt 
mu  drawn,  the  door  opened,  and  Jane  Bay  apoke  to 
ae  in  a  tone  of  kindness. 


WlOttU  XQVX. 


12S 


MTerelj.  b^ 
'aloeneoffio. 
l*?»Pt  to  de. 

pausted  aU  mj 

IW,  against  aey' 
M  my  back,* 
f  thumbs,  thsD 
wwBt  and  fast. 
It  cut  throQffk 
Nds,  the  sean 
^en  forced  into 
it  sometimes 
»b  I  was  taken 
ie  cellar,  across 
«d  brougrht  to 
*  the  left  hand, 
ninwithvio- 
„  immediately 
lie  bare  ground 
M  been  beaten 
Bb  I  had  fallen, 
» to  move,  con- 
Bzertious ;  and 
>d  state  of  des- 
m  any  further 
M>  there  beinff 
mmer  of  light 
^faraboyeme. 
ion  I  can  only 
'me,  and  most 
not  move,  ez« 
ustress  whieh 
ageaboutmy 
^Part  at  their 
inst  have  died 
U I  had  been 
^er,  the  bolt 
MJ  apoke  to 


;>^Bm  bad  iakiii  an  opportanity  to  dip  into  the  cat* 
lit  annotioed.  on  pnrposo  to  seo  mt«  She  unbound 
tkafag,  took  it  out  ox  my  mouth,  and  told  me»  aht 
fKooIddoany  thing  to  |[et  me  out  of  the  dungeon. 
Udiehadhadthe  Dringing  of  me  down  she  would 
not  hare  tfarntt  me  in  so  brutallT,  and  she  would  be 
lessnted  on  those  who  had.  She  offered  to  throw 
hsfself  upon  her  knees  before  the  S^perior,  and  beg 
her  forgiTcness.  To  this  I  would  not  consent ;  but 
told  her  to  ask  the  Superior  to  come  to  me,  as  I  wish- 
,ed  to  speak  to  her.  This  I  had  no  idea  she  would 
eondesoend  to  do ;  but  Jane  had  not  been  gone  long 
before  the  Superior  came,  and  asked  if  I  repented  in 
the  sight  of  God  for  what  I  had  done.  I  replied  in 
the  a&matlTe ;  and  after  a  lecture  of  some  length 
on  the  pain  I  had  giyen  the  Virgin  Mary  by  my  eon* 
duot.  she  asked  whether  I  was  willing  to  ask  pardon 
of  all  the  nuns  for  the  scandal  I  had  caused  ttiem  by 
my  behaviour.  To  this  I  made  no  objection ;  and  I 
was  then  released  from  my  prison  and  my  bondS| 
went  up  to  the  community-room,  and  kneeling  be* 
fore  all  the  sisters  in  succession,  begged  the  forgive- 
ness and  prayers  of  each. 

Among  the  marks  which  I  still  bear  of  the  wounds 
received  from  penances  and  violence,  are  the  scars 
left  by  the  belt  with  which  I  repeatedly  tortured 
myself,  for  the  mortification  of  my  spirit.  These 
are  most  distinct  on  my  side :  for  although  the  hand, 
which  was  four  or  five  inches  in  breadth,  ai^d  eit* 
tended  round  the  waist,  was  stuck  full  of  shaq^iron 
points  in  all  parts,  it  was  sometimes  crowded  most 
against  my  side,  by  vesting  in  my  chair,  and  then  the 
wounds  were  usually  deeper  there  than  any  where  else* 
.  ^  ICy  thumbs  were  several  times  out  severely  by  the 
tight  drawing  of  tibe  band  used  to  confine  my  arms ; 
snd  seats  see  stQl  visible  upon  them. 

The  rough  gagging  which  I  several  times  endured 
wondedmy  nps  very  mudh;  lor  it  was  oommon,  ia 
thai  opisiation,  to  tinrust  the  gag  hard  mgeinsttli^ 


>m 


124 


▲WVUXi  BI8CEbOBOSB9 


< '  -•  'J 


j't  c^ 


V 


ta0ih|  and  oatob  one  or  both  the  lipii  whioh  wiii 
•ometimee  oraelly  out.  The  object  was  to  itop  tu 
ecteams  made  by  the  offender,  as  loon  at  potiible; 
and  some  of  the  old  nuns  delighted  in  tormenting  ui» 
A  gag  was  once  forced  into  my  mouth,  which  luid  a 
large  splinter  upon  it ;  and  this  cut  through  my  xtn* 
der  lip,  in  front,  leaving  to  this  day  a  scar  about  half 
an  inch  long.  The  same  lip  was  several  times  wound* 
ed  as  well  as  the  other ;  but  one  dav  worse  than 
ever,  when  a  narrow  piece  was  cut  off  from  the  left 
side  of  it,  by  being  pinched  between  the  gag  and  tilie 
under  f ore*teeth ;  and  this  has  left  an  inequaUty  in 
it  which  is  still  very  observable. 

One  of  the  most  shoddng  stories  I  heard,  of  events 
that  occurred  in  the  nunnery  before  my  acquaintance 
witi^  it,  was  the  following,  which  was  told  me  by 
Jane  Bay.  What  is  uncommon,  I  can  fix  the  date 
when  I  heard  it.  It  was  on  New  Year's  Day,  1834. 
The  oeremonies,  customary  in  the  earljr  part  of  that 
day,  had  been  pierformed ;  after  mass,  in  the  morn- 
ing, the  Superior  had  shaken  hands  with  all  the  nuns, 
and  given  us  her  blessing,  for  she  was  said  to  have 
received  newer  from  heaven  to  do  so  onoe  a  year,  and 
then  on  the  first  day  of  the  year.  Besides  this,  cakes,^ 
raisioB,  &c.,  are  distributed  to  the  nuns  on  that  day. 

While  in  the  community-room,  I  had  taken  a  seat 
Just  within  the  cupboard-door,  where  I  often  found 
a  partial  shelter  from  observation  with  Jane,  when  a 
conversation  incidentally  began  between  us.      Oar 

Sactice  often  was^to  take  places  there  beside  one  of 
e  old  nuns,  awaiting  the  time  when  she  would  go 
«way  for  a  little  while,  and  leave  us  partially  screen- 
ed from  the  observation  of  others.  On  that  oooa* 
sion,  Jane  and  I  were  left  for  a  time  alone ;  when, 
after  some  discourse  on  suicide,  she  remarked  that 
three  nuns  once  killed  themselves  in  the  Oonvsnt 
This  hi^pened,  she  said,  not  long  after  her  reoeptioOi 
and  I  knew,  therefore,  that  it  was  several  years  be- 
fpre  I  had  become  a  novice.     Three  young  ladiesy 


Of  iuiu  mux* 


120 


|«ard,ofeyenti 

^  acquaintance 

»  told  meb? 

,fi»  ttedaie 
.-■•Day,  1834. 
*jr  pwt  of  that 
»*»  tno  mom- 

»  all  the  nuns, 
•  said  to  have 

pea  year,  and 
»«•  thif ,  oakea 
;  on  that  day; 
1  taken  a  seat 
I  often  found 
'ane,  when  a 
jn  us.  Our 
oeside  one  of 
he  would  go 
"wlyioreen. 
u  that  oooa- 
'one;  when, 
marked  that 
le  OoBTent 
»fwoeptioii| 
u  yottsbe- 
'Qugladkfl^ 


ihe  infbnned  me,  took  the  yeil  together,  or  very  near 
(be  same  time,  I  am  not  certain  which.  I  know  they 
tore  four  rohes  in  the  Oonyent,  to  be  worn  during 
the  ceremony  of  taking  the  Tcil :  but  I  never  have 
seen  more  than  one  of  them  used  at  a  time. 

Two  of  the  new  nuns  were  sisters,  and  the  other 
their  cousin.  They  had  been  received  but  a  few 
days,  when  information  was  given  one  morning,  that 
thejF  had  been  found  dead  in  their  beds,  amid  a  pro* 
fasion  of  blood.  Jane  Bay  said  she  saw  their  corpses, 
and  that  they  appeared  to  have  killed  thomselTCsby 
opening  veins  in  their  arms  with  a  knife  they  had 
ODtain^,  and  all  had  bled  to  death  together.  What^ 
was  extraordinary,  Jane  Ray  added,  that  she  had 
heard  no  noise,  and  she  believed  nobody  had  sus- 
pected that  anything  was  wrong  during  the  night. 
Bt.  H^polite,  however,  had  stated,  that  she  had  found 
ttiem  in  the  morning,  after  the  other  nuns  had  gone 
to  prayers,  lying  lifeless  in  their  beds. 

For  some  reason  or  other,  their  death  was  not  made 
public;  but  their  bodies,  instead  of  being  exhibited 
m  full  dress,  in  the  chapel,  and  afterwards  interred 
with  solenlinity  beneath  it,  were  taken  unceremoni* 
ouslv  into  the  cellar,  and  thrown  into  the  hole  I  have 
so  often  mentioned. 

There  were  a  few  instances,  and  only  a  few,  in 
Irhioh  we  knew  anything  that  was  happening  in  the 
world ;  and  even  then  our  knowledge  did  not  extend 
out  of  the  dty.  I  can  recall  but  three  occasions  of 
this  kind.  Two  of  them  were  when  the  cholera  pre* 
tailed  in  Montreal ;  and  the  other  was  the  election 
fiots.  The  appearance  of  the  cholera,  in  both  sea- 
sons of  its  ravages,  gave  us  abundance  of  occupation. 
Indeed,  we  were  more  borne  down  by  hard  labour  at 
those  times,  than  ever  before  or  afterwards  during 
my  stay.  The  Pope  had  given  early  notice  that  the 
burning  of  wax  candles  would  affora  protection  from 
the  disMSOj  because,  eo  long  aa  any  person  continued 
to  bumone,  13ie  Yirgin  Mary  would  mtercedef or  him* 


i\  - 


'.> ' 


J. 


IM 


▲ifFUii  oncsMnoBi 


No  MMmwi  therefore,  had  the  elamiing  diieate  mm 
iti  amManmoe  in  Monttfeal,  than  a  kmf  was  oaa^ 
was  lighted  in  the  OonTent,  for  eaoh  of  the  inmtta; 
eo  that  all  parti  of  it  in  use  were  artificially  iUii 
niinated  day  and  night.  Thus  a  great  many  oandla ' 
were  oonttantly  huming.  whioh  were  to  be  replaced] 
from  those  mannfaotured  by  the  nnns.  But  this  wm 
a  trifle.  The  Pope's  message  haying  been  promnl* 
gated  in  the  Qrey  Nunnery,  and  to  Gatholios  at  laigi 
urough  the  pulpit,  an  extraordinary  demand  wm 
oreatMl  for  wax  candles,  to  supply  whioh  we  were 
principally  depended  upon.  AU  who  could  posiibly 
DC  employed  in  making  them  were,  therefore,  set  to 
work,  and  I,  among  the  rest,  assisted  in  different  de« 
partments,  and  witnessed  all. 

Numbers  of  the  nuns  had  long  been  familiar  with 
the  business ;  for  a  yery  considerable  amount  of  wai 
had  been  annually  manufactured  in  the  Conyent; 
but  now  the  works  were  much  extended,  and  other 
occupations  in  a  great  degree  laid  aside.     Large 
quantities  of  wax  werereceiyed  in  the  buildin;r, 
which  was  said  to  haye  been  imported  from  Eoglaud ; 
kettles  were  placed  in  some  of  the  working-rooms, 
in  which  it  was  clarified  by  heat  oyer  coal  £es,  and, 
when  prepared,  the  process  of  dipping  oommenced. 
The  wicks,  which  were  quite  long,  were  placed,  hang* 
ing  upon  a  reel,  taken  up  and  dipped  m  succession, 
until  after  many  slow  reyolutions  of  the  reel,  the 
eandles  were  of  the  proper  sixe.     They  were  then 
taken  to  a  part  of  the  room  where  tables  were  pre- 
pared for  rolling  them  smooth,  lliis  is  done  by  pass- 
mg  a  roller  oyer  them,  until  they  became  eyen  and 
polished;  after  which  they  are  laid  by  for  sale^ 
These  processes  caused  a  constant  bustle  in  seyeral 
of  the  rooms ;  and  the  melancholy  reports  from  with* 
ont,  of  the  rayages  of  the  cholera,  wiUi  the  nnoer* 
tain^  of  what  imy ht  be  the  result  with  us,  notwith- 
etanmns  the  promised  intercession  of  ttie  Yirgin,  and 
the  brilliant  fights  oonatantly  burping  in  vaw  num* 


-v.; 


«y  MKBUXXWi. 


12? 


familiar  with 
*IS^"5.*  of  vrai 

Ewe  Convent; 
od.  and  other 

,  the  buildinl 

rom  England; 

orkmg.rooms. 
Joal  firea,  and, 

f  commenced, 
placed,  hang, 
in  Buccession, 
the  reel^  the 
[y  were  then 
lee  were  pre- 
lonebypasf. 
ine  ereu  and 
^Jjox  sale, 
le  m  seyeral 
8  from  with. 
i  the  aneer* 
^  notwith* 
▼ufipn,  and 
snoh  nnrn- 


bHiaioond  ua,  impreaaed  the  loanaa  I  uaed  to  wit- 
liMitaiydeaplyonmy  mind.  IhadTerylittiadoabt 
ji|i^  of  the  Btriot  truth  of  the  itory  we  had  heaia 
abontUie  eeoority  conferred  upon  thoie  who  burnt 
oiiidlei,  and  yet  t  iomeiimei  had  eerions  feara  ariaa 
In  my  mind.  These  tboughtai  howerer.  I  did  mj  nU 
moit  to  ttgBxd  aa  great  einBy  and  oTiaenoea  of  my 
own  want  of  faith. 

It  was  during  that  period  that  I  formed  a  partial 
soqnaintanoe  mth  sereral  QreyNans,  who  used  to 
some  frequently  for  supplies  of  candles  for  their 
CtonTent.  I  had  no  opportunity  to  couTerse  with 
Ihem,  except  so  far  as  the  purchase  and  sale  of  the 
articles  they  required.  I  became  familiar  ¥rith  their 
countenances  and  appearances,  but  was  unable  to 
judge  of  their  characters  or  feelings.  Concerning 
file  rules  and  habits  nrevailing  in  the  Grey  Nunnery, 
I  therefore  remainea  as  ignorant  as  if  I  nad  been  a 
thousand  miles  o£F ;  and  they  had  no  better  opportu* 
hity  to  learn  anything  of  us,  beyond  what  they  could 
see  around  them  in  the  room  where  the  candles  wero 
lold. 

We  supplied  the  Couf^regational  Nunnery  also 
with  wax  candles,  as  I  before  remarked ;  and  in  both 
theie  institutions,  it  was  understood,  a  constant  Ulu* 
mination  was  kept  up.  Citizens  were  also  frequently 
running  in  to  buy  candles  in  great  and  small  quan- 
tities, so  that  the  business  of  8tore*keeping  was  far 
more  laborious  than  common. 

We  were  confirmed  in  our  faith  in  the  intercession 
of  the  Virgin,  when  we  found  that  we  remained  eafa 
from  the  cholera ;  and  it  is  a  remarkable  fact,  that 
not  one  case  of  that  disease  existed  in  the  Nunnery, 
during  either  of  the  seasons  in  which  it  proTed  so 
fatal  in  the  city. 

^  When  the  election  riots  prerailed  at  Montreal,  tbe 
dty  was  thrown  into  general  alarm ;  we  heard  some 
reports  from  daT  to  diy,  which  made  us  anzioua  for 
ouselTaa.   Nothing,  howe?er|  gaTo  mo  any  scrioua 


J28 


XWWtfL  JSHSOWBU&MB 


'  -  .>    , 

.■'-.■.   ■ 

H^^HJKi<nMf  'f^ft'^fKifv  "^^^^M 

■•'v  •,      • 

W^^^-'^M 

■hImuh 

I^^H^aH  i  'it  >  ^^M 

yHHI»9^>*  ic  ■  ^^M 

Hp^^eI 

K'Y-.  '''4fl 

**-  "        ''      '> 

1^1  j.'t'.   hH 

■    *'-- 

HB^I'-'    '-^I 

H^^'.      J^H 

•w    \ 

IS^'^  '■ '  ■ 

,  ■■■?-. 

Kv  '>-« 

Br  '3ffj^»  J                                   I^^^^^H 

V 

mm.'     '>9[ 

Mm,    .  -^'^'WM 

'-               . 

plk-H              ■■ 

F"'" .                ^^H 

;  ~st                       ^^^H 

,i.    ■ 

UioaghtOy  until  I  saw  unoommon  moTementB  in  sotn^ 
parts  of  the  Nailery,  and  ascertained,  to  mj  own 
satisfaotion,  that  there  was  a  large  quantity  of  gun- 
powder  stored  in  some  secret  place  within  the  walls, 
and  that  some  of  it  was  removed,  or  prepared  for 
use,  under  the  direction  of  the  Superior. 

Penanees,—!  have  mentioned  several  penances  in 
different  parts  of  this  narration,  which  we  sometimes 
bad  to  perform.  There  is  a  threat  variety  of  them ; 
and,  while  some,  though  trifling  in  appearance,  he* 
oame  Yery  painful,  by  long  endurance  or  frequent  re- 
petition, others  are  severe  in  their  nature,  and  never 
would  be  submitted  to,  unless,  through  fear  of  some* 
thing  worse,  or  a  real  belief  in  their  efficacy  to  re- 
move guilt.  I  will  mention  here  such  as  I  recollect, 
which  can  be  named  without  offending  a  virtuous 
ear;  for  some  there  were,  which,  althou^^h  I  have 
been  compelled  to  submit  to,  either  by  a  misled  con- 
soienoe,  or  the  fear  of  severe  punishment,  now  tha^ 
I  am  better  able  to  judge  of  my  duties,  and  at  liberty 
to  act,  I  would  not  mention  or  describe. 

Kissing  the  floor  is  a  very  common  penance; 
kneeling  and  kissinf^  the  feet  of  the  other  nuns  is 
another;  as  are  kneeling  on  hard  peas,  and  walking 
with  them  in  the  shoes.  We  had  repeatedly  to  walk 
on  our  knees  through  the  subterranean  passage, 
leading  to  the  Congregational  Nunnery ;  and  some- 
times to  eat  our  meals  with  a  rope  round  our  necks. 
Sometimes  we  were  fed  only  with  such  things  as  we 
most  disliked.  Garlic  was  given  to  me  on  this  ac- 
count, because  I  had  a  strong  antipathy  against  it. 

Eels  were  repeatedly  given  some  of  us,  because  we 
felt  an  unconquerable  repugnance  to  them,  on  ac- 
count of  reports  we  heard  of  their  feeding  on  dead 
carcases  in  the  river  St.  Lawrence.  It  was  no  un- 
oommon thins  for  us  to  be  required  to  drink  the 
water  in  which  the  Superior  had  washed  her  feet. 
Sometimes  we  were  required  to  brand  oiurselves  with 
a  hot  iroDf  so  as  to  leave  scars ;  at  other  times,  to 


V4% 


.\ 


netits  in  sonift 
i,  to  mj  owa 
Euititr  of  gun. 
;hiii  tbd  walls, 
prepared  for 
)r. 

1  penances  in 
we  sometimes 
etjof  them; 
»pearance,  be* 
r  frequent  re- 
ire,  and  never 
fear  of  some- 
efficacy  to  re* 
as  I  recollect, 
g  a  yirtuous 
hough  I  have 
a  misled  con- 
sent, now  tha^ 
and  at  liberty 
e. 

ion  penance; 
other  nuns  is 
» and  walldng 
itedlytowalk 
lean  passage, 
T ;  and  some- 
ad  our  necks, 
things  as  we 
e  on  this  ac* 
y  against  it. 
B,  because  we 
them,  on  ac- 
ding  on  dead 
't  was  no  un« 
to  drink  the 
led  her  feet. 
orselTeswith 
ber  times,  to 


OV  3CABU  KOKK.  l2* 

wMp  our  naked  fleeb  with  seTeral  small  rods,  before 
a  pnyate  altar,  until  we  drew  blood.  I  can  assert, 
imh  the  perfeot  knowledge  of  the  fact,  that  many 
of  ti^e  nuns  bear  the  scars  ol  these  wounds. 

One  of  the  penances  was  to  stand  for  a  length  of 
time  with  our  arms  extended,  in  imitation  of  the 
Saviour  on  the  Cross.  The  Chemin  de  la  eraix^  or 
Boad  to  the  Cross,  is,  in  fact,  a  penance,  though  it 
consists  of  a  variety  of  prostrations,  with  the  repe^- 
tion  of  many  prayers,  occupying  two  or  three  hours. 
This  we  had  to  perform  frequently  going  in  chapel, 
and  falling  before  each  chapelle  in  succession,  at 
each  time  commemorating  some  particular  act  or  cir- 
cumstance reported  of  the  Saviour's  progress  to  the 
place  of  his  crucifixion.  Sometimes  we  were  obliged 
to  sleep  on  the  floor  in  the  winter,  with  nothing  over 
us  but  a  single  sheet ;  and  sometimes  to  chew  apiece 
of  window  glass  to  a  fine  powder,  in  the  presence  of 
the  Superior. 

We  had  sometimes  to  wear  a  leathern  belt  stuck 
loll  of  sharp  metallic  points,  round  our  waists  and 
the  upper  part  of  our  arms,  bound  on  so  tight  that 
they  penet^ted  the  flesh,  and  drew  blood. 

Some  of  the  penances  were  so  severe,  that  they 
seemed  too  much  to  be  endured  :  and  when  they 
were  imposed,  ttke  nuns  who  were  to  suffer  them 
showed  the  most  violent  repugnance.  They  would 
often  resist,  and  still  of tener  express  their  opposition 
by  exclamations  and  screams. 

Never,  however,  was  any  noise  beard  from  them 
for  a  long  time,  for  there  was  a  remedy  always  ready 
to  be  applied  in  cases  of  the  kind.  The  gag  which 
was  put  into  the  mouth  of  the  unfortunate  Saint 
Frances,  had  been  brought  from  a  place  where  there 
were  forty  or  fifty  others  of  different  shapes  and 
sises.  These  I  have  seen  in  their  depository,  which 
is  a  drawer  between  two  elosets,  in  one  of  the  oojai« 
mnm1rr«rooms.  Whenever  any  loud  noise  was  made, 
one  of  these  iostroments  was  demanded,  and  gag- 
174  V 


^  ■       • 


ISO 


kyrwvit  i>xsoLO(njBB8 


^:'^ 


gipg  oommenDed  at  onoe.  I  hay«  known  many  Iq. 
flteoesi  and  sometimes  five  or  six  nuns  gagged  at 
onoe.  Sometimes  they  would  become  so  much  ei- 
oited  before  they  oould  be  bound  and  gagged,  that 
oonsiderable  force  wsji  necessary  to  be  exerted ;  and 
IhaTB  seen  the  blood  flowing  from  mouths  into 
whi(dl  the  gag  had  been  thrust  wUh  violenoe. 

Bideed  I  ought  to  know  somethhig  of  this  depart- 
ment of  nunnery  discipline ;  I  haye  had  it  kied  upon 
myself,  and  can  bear  witness  that  it  is  not  only  moifc 
humiliating  and  oppressive,  but  often  extremely  pain- 
ful. The  mouth  is  kept  forced  open,  and  the  stiain* 
ing  of  the  jaws  at  their  utmost  stretch,  for  a  oonsip 
derable  time,  is  very  distressing. 

One  of  the  worst  punishments  which  I  erer  sav 
inflicted,  was  that  with  the  cap  ;  and  yet  some  of  the 
old  nuns  were  permitted  to  inflict  it  at  their  pleasure. 
I  have  repeatedly  known  them  to  go  for  a  cap,  when 
one  of  our  number  had  transgressed  a  rule,  some- 
times though  it  were  a  very  unimportant  one.  These 
caps  were  kept  in  a  cupboard  in  the  old  nuns'  room, 
whence  they  were  brought  when  wanted. 

Thev  were  small,  made  of  a  reddish  looking  lea- 
ther, ntted  closely  to  the  head,  and  fastened  under 
the  chin  with  a  kind  of  buckle.  It  was  the  common 
practice  to  tie  the  nun's  hands  behind,  and  gag  her 
before  the  cap  was  put  on,  to  prevent  noise  and  re- 
sistance. I  never  saw  it  worn  by  any  one  for  a  mo- 
ment, without  throwing  them  into  severe  sufferings. 
If  permitted,  they  would  scream  in  the  most  shock- 
ing manner,  and  always  writhed  as  much  as  their 
oonfinement  would  allow.  I  can  speak  from  per- 
sonal knowledge  of  this  punishment,  as  I  have  en- 
dured it  more  than  once ;  and  yet  I  have  no  idea  of 
the  cause  of  the  pain.  I  never  examined  one  of  the 
osM,  nor  saw  the  inside,  for  they  are  always  brought 
ana  taken  awav  quickly ;  but  although  tne  first  sen- 
satkm  was  tbat  c»  eoolneM.it  was  hmly  put  on  my 
head  before  a  violent  and  indisoiibable  semMtion  be* 


ov  ^CABU  xomt. 


Ml 


gHi,  like  that  of  a  blbter,  onlv  mikoh  move  inaapiporf- 
able:  and  this  oontinuea  until  it  was  reaoTed.  R 
would  produoe  suoh  an  aoute  pain  as  to  throw  ns  in* 
to  oonTnUoney  and  I  think  no  homan  being  oenid 
endure  it  lor  an  hour.    After  this  punishment,  we 


ed  to  suffer  the  punishment  again,  felt  ready  to  do 


taken  off. 

This  was  usually  done  in  about  ten  minutes,  some- 
tunes  less,  but  the  pain  always  oontinned  in  my  head 
for  seyerai  days.  I  thought  that  it  might  take  awa^ 
a  person's  reason  if  kept  on  a  much  longer  time,  u 
I  had  not  been  gagged,  I  am  sure  I  should  have  ut- 
tered awful  screams.  I  have  felt  the  effects  for  a 
week.  Sometimes  fresh  cabbage  leaves  were  applied 
to  my  head  to  remove  it.  Having  had  no  opportu- 
nity to  examine  my  head,  I  connot  say  more. 


CHAPTER  XVra. 

ThepTinifiihmentof  theOap-^Tho  priests  of  the  district  of 
Montreal  have  free  acc^  to  the  Black  Nunnery— 
Crimes  committed  and  reqnired  by  them— The  Pope's 
command  to  commit  indecent  orimes— Characters  orthe 
.  old  and  new  Superiors^The  timidity  of  the  latter—I 
began  to  be  employed  in  the  hospitals— Some  account  of 
them— Warning  given  me  by  a  sick  non— Penanoe  of 
banging.  , 

Tbis  punishment  was  occasionally  resorted  to  for 
verv  trifling  offences,  such  as  washing  the  hands 
without  permission ;  and  it  was  generally  applied 
on  the  spot,  and  before  the  other  nuns  in  ocmimu- 
ttiir-rooms. 

X  have  mei^oned  before,  that  the  country,  so  Un 
down  as  the  Three  Bivers,  is  furnished  witfipriesU 


182 


▲WfVIi  BXSOLOSOBBS 


i>^^.m 


f.'S'? 


r?lii 


Hi 


by  the  ^em!nary  of  Montreal ;  and  that  ^ese  hun* 
dred  and  fifty  men  are  liable  to  be  oocanonally  trani. 
fonred  from  one  station  to  another.  Numbers  of 
fhem  are  often  to  be  seen  in  the  streets  of  Montreal, 
as  they  may  find  a  home  in  the  Seminary. 
'^  They  are  considered  as  haying  an  equal  right  to 
enter  the  Black  Nunnery  whenerer  they  please ;  and 
then,  according  to  our  oaths,  they  have  complete  con- 
trol over  the  nuns.  To  name  all  the  works  of  shame 
of  which  they  are  guilty  in  that  retreat,  would  re« 
quire  much  time  and  space,  neither  would  it  be  ne- 
cessary to  the  accomplishment  of  my  object,  which 
is,  the  publication  of  but  some  of  tneir  criminality 
to  the  world,  and  the  development,  in  gmieral  terms, 
of  scenes  thus  far  carried  on  in  secret  within  the 
walls  of  that  Convent,  where  I  was  so  long  an  inmate. 

Secure  against  detection  by  the  world,  they  never 
bdieved  that  an  eye-witness  would  ever  escape  to 
tell  of  their  crimes,  and  declare  some  of  their  names 
before  the  world ;  but  the  time  has  come,  and  some 
of  tiieir  deeds  of  darkness  must  come  to  the  day.  I 
have  seen  in  the  Nunnery,  the  priests  from  more,  I 
presume,  than  a  hundred  country  places,  admitted 
tor  shameful  and  criminal  purposes;  from  St.  Oharles, 
It.  Denis,  St.  Mark's,  St.  Antoine,  Ohambly,  Bertier, 
St.  John's,  &c. 

How  unexpected  to  them  will  be  the  disclosures  I 
make !  Shut  up  in  a  place  from  which  there  has  been 
thought  to  be  but  one  way  of  egress,  and  that  the 
passage  to  the  gprave,  they  considered  themselves 
safe  m  perpetrating  crimes  in  our  presence,  and  in 
making  us  share  in  their  criminality  as  often  as  they 
obose,  and  conducted  more  shamelessly  than  even 
the  brutes. 

These  debauchees  would  come  in  without  cere* 
mony,  ooncealingtheirnameB,  both  by  night  and  dav. 
Being  within  the  walls  of  that  prison-house  of  deam, 
irhere  tbe  cries  and  pains  of  the  injured  innooende 
of  their  Tiotams  would  never  reach  tne  world,  for  re- 


07  lusxi.  xoirs. 


188 


Kef  or  ledveM  for  their  wrongs,  withont  itnu^  or 
ihameyti&ey  would  glorji  not  only  in  latint^  their 
bnital  pasdone,  but  even  in  torturing,  in  the  most 
harbarouB  manner,  the  feelings  of  those  under  their 
power ;  telling  us  at  the  same  time,  that  this  morti« 
lying  the  flew  was  religion,  and  pleasing  to  Qod: 
The  more  they  could  torture  us,  or  make  us  violate 
our  own  feelmgs,  the  more  pleasure  they  took  in 
their  unclean  revelling ;  and  all  their  brutal  obscen- 
ity they  called  meritorious  before  God. 

We  were  sometimes  invited  to  put  ourselves  to  vo«* 
Inntary  sufferings  in  a  variety  of  ways,  not  for  a 
peuance,  but  to  show  our  devotion  to  God.  A  priest 
would  sometimes  say  to  us — 

*'Now,  which  of  you  have  love  enough  for  Jesus 
Ohrist  to  stick  a  pin  through  your  cheeks  P" 

Some  of  us  would  signify  our  readiness,  and  imme- 
diatriy  thrust  one  through  up  to  the  head.  Some- 
times be  would  propose  that  we  should  repeat  the 
operation  several  times  on  the  spot ;  and  the  cheeks 
of  a  number'of  the  nuns  would  be  bloody. 

There  were  other  acts  occasionally  proposed  and 
consented  to,  which  I  cannot  name  in  a  book.  Such 
the  Superior  would  sometimes  command  us  to  per- 
form ;  many  of  them,  things  not  only  useless  and 
unheard  of,  but  loathsome  and  indecent  in  tiie  high- 
est possible  degree.  How  they  ever  could  have  been 
invented,  I  never  could  conceive.  Things  were  done 
worse  than  the  entire  exposure  of  the  person,  though 
this  was  occasionally  required  of  several  at  once  m 
the  presence  of  priests. 

The  Superior  of  the  Seminary  would  sometimes 
come  ana  inform  us,  that  she  had  received  orders 
from  the  Pope,  to  request  that  those  nuns  who  pos- 
sessed the  greatest  devotion  and  f  aitii,  should  be  re- 
quested to  perform  some  particular  deeds,  which  she 
named  or  described  in  our  presence,  but  of  which  no 
deeent  or  moral  person  could  ever  venture  to  speak. 
I  cannot  repeat  what  would  injure  any  eary  not  do- 


1^ 


AWfOL  BXSOIOSTTBIB 


mm 


I'  s^ 
Mr:  "'r' 

■  ml 


m)  t 


"i*; 


£ 

1 

{ 

BR-' 

!•-• 

n^' ' 

t 

.r 


V' 


htmH  ta  the  lowett  possible  degree.  I  am  bound  by 
a  r^pod  to  truth,  however,  to  oonf ess,  that  deluded 
women  were  found  among  us,  who  would  eomply 
with  their  requests. 

There  was  a  great  difference  between  the  oharae- 
tere  of  our  old  and  new  Superiors,  which  soon  be- 
came obvious.  The  former  used  to  say  she  liked  to 
walk,  because  it  would  prevent  her  from  becoming 
corpulent.  She  was,  therefore,  very  active,  and  con* 
stantly  going  about  from  one  part  of  the  Nunnery 
to  another,  overseeing  us  at  our  various  employ- 
ments. I  never  saw  in  her  any  appearance  of  timid- 
ity ;  She  seemed,  on  the  contrary,  bold  and  mascu- 
line, and  sometimes  much  more  than  that,  cruel  and 
cold-blooded,  in  scenes  calculated  to  overcome  any 
common  person.  Such  a  character  she  had  particu- 
larly exhibited  at  the  murder  of  St.  Frances. 

The  new  Superior,  on  the  other  hand,  was  so  heavy 
and  lame,  that  she  walked  with  much  oifficulty,  and 
consequently  exercised  a  less  vigilant  oversight  of 
the  nuns.  She  was  also  of  a  tmiid  disposition,  or 
else  had  been  overcome  by  some  great  fnght  in  her 
past  life  ;  for  she  was  apt  to  become  alarmed  in  the 
night,  and  never  liked  to  be  alone  in  the  dark.  She 
had  long  performed  the  part  of  an  old  nun,  which  is 
that  of  a  spy  upon  the  younger  ones,  and  was  well 
known  to  us  in  that  character,  under  the  name  of 
St.  Margarite.  Soon  after  her  promotion  to  the  sta- 
tion of  Superior,  she  appointed  me  to  sleep  in  her 
apartment  and  assigned  me  a  sofa  to  lie  upon.  One 
night,  while  I  was  asleep,  she  suddenly  threw  her- 
self upon  me,  and  exclaimed,  in  great  alami.  "  Oh ! 
mon  Dieu !  mon  Dieu !  qu'estque  ca  P'  TOh !  my 
Qod !  mv  God !  what  is  that  ?)  I  jumped  up  and 
looked  about  the  room,  but  saw  nothing,  and  endea- 
voured to  convince  her  that  there  w^s;  nothing  ex- 
traordinary there.  But  she  insisted  that  a  ghosi  had 
Qome  and  held  her  bed-curtain,  so  that  die  could  not 
draw  it.    I  examined  it,  and  found  l^at  the  onrtaia 


r^. 


ov  icABU  xoirx. 


Its 


theoharao* 
ioh  BOOH  be- 
'  she  liked  to 
>m  becomiog 
ive,  and  con* 
the  Nunnery 
ious  employ, 
nee  of  timid- 
and  mason- 
^at,  oruel  and 
>vereome  any 
had  particn- 
ranees, 
was  80  heavy 
iifficolty,  and 
oyersight  of 
iisposition,  or 
fnghtin  her 
larmed  in  the 
ledark.    She 
Qun,  which  ii 
and  was  well 
the  name  of 
E>n  to  the  sta- 
sleep  in  her 
snpon.  One 
7  threw  her- 
larm,  <<0h! 
(Oh!  my 
iped  up  and 
9  and  endea- 
nothittg  ^• 
iaghosfthad 
he  ooold  not 
ktheoortaiQ 


hid  bMB  caught  by  apinintheralenoe^wliidliluid 
held  itbaek;  but  it  waa  impoMible  to  traaqaiHaa 
her  lor  some  time.  She  insisted  on  mf  sleeping  witti 
her  the  rest  of  the night,and  I  atretcbed  myself  aoioia 
the  foot  of  her  bed,  and  slept  there  till  morning; 

I>arinff  the  last  part  of  my  stay  in  the  Conyent, 
I  was  often  employed  in  attending  in  the  hospitals. 
There  are,  as  I  have  before  mentioned,  several  apart* 
ments  devoted  to  the  siok,  and  there  is  a  physician 
of  Montreal,  who  attends  as  physician  to  theGon- 
vent.  Itmnst  not  be  supposed,  howeyer,  that  he 
knows  anything  concerning  the  private  hospitals.  It 
is  a  fact  of  great  importance  to  oe  distinctly  under- 
stood, and  constantly  borne  in  mind,  that  he  is  never, 
under  any  circumstances,  admitted  into  the  private 
hospital-rooms.  Of  those  he  sees  nothing  more  than 
any  stranger  whatever.  He  is  limited  to  the  care 
of  those  patients  wh6  are  admitted  from  the  city 
into  the  public  hospital,  and  one  of  the  nuns^  hos- 
pitals, and  these  he  visits  every  day.  Sick  poor  ave 
received  for  charity  by  the  institution,  attended  by 
some  of  the  nuns,  and  often  go  away  with  the  higli- 
est  ideas  of  our  onaritable  characters  and  holy  lives. 
The  physician  himself  might,  perhaps,  in  some  casoe, 
share  in  the  delusion. 

I  frequently  followed  Dr.  Nelson  through  the  pub- 
lic hospital  at  the  direction  of  the  Superior^  with 
pen,  ink,  and  paper,  in  my  hands,  and  wrote  down 
the  prescriptions  which  he  ordered  for  the  different 
patients.  These  were  afterwards  prepared  and  ad« 
ministered  by  the  attendants.  About  a  year  before 
I  left  the  Gonvent,  I  was  first  appointed  to  attend 
the  private  sick-rooms,  and  was  frequentiy  employ* 
ed  in  that  duty  up  to  the  day  of  my  departure.  Of 
course,  I  had  opportunities  to  observe  the  nnnber 
and  classes  of  patients  treated  there;  and  in  what  I 
am  to  say  on  tne  subject.  I  appeal,  with  perfect  con- 
fidence, to  any  true  and  competent  witness  to  con- 
firm my  words,  whenever  such  a  witnase  may  appaai. 


186 


▲WfOS  DlBCbOSUBlfl 


■'<% 


•M 


h>    ''. 


1^ 


^■; 


It  would  be  Tain  for  any  bodr  who  hai  merely  ti« 
aiied  the  Ck>nTent  from  ooriotity*  or  reaided  in  it  u 
a  noTioe,  to  question  my  dedarationa.  Such  a  per* 
aon  must  neceBsarily  be  ignorant  of  even  the  exist- 
ence of  the  priyate  rooms,  unless  informed  by  some 
one  else.  Such  rooms,  however,  there  are,  and  I  could 
relate  many  things  which  haye  passed  there  durioff 
the  hours  I  was  employed  in  them,  as  I  have  stated! 

One  night  I  was  called  to  sit  up  with  an  old  nun, 
named  St.  Glare,  who,  in  goin^  down  stairs,  had 
dislocated  a  limb,  and  lay  in  a  sick-room  adjoining 
the  hospital.  She  seemed  to  be  a  little  out  of  her 
head  a  part  of  the  time,  but  appeared  to  be  quite  in 
possession  of  her  reason  most  of  the  night.  It  was 
easy  to  pretend  that  she  was  delirious ;  but  I  con- 
sidered her  as  speaking  the  truth,  though  I  felt  re- 
luctant to  repeat  what  I  heard  her  say,  and  excnsed 
myself  from  mentioning  it  eyen  at  confession,  on  the 
ground  that  the  Superior  thought  her  deranged. 

What  led  her  to  some  of  the  most  remarkable  parts 
of  her  oonyersation  was,  a  motion  I  made,  in  the 
oourie  of  the  night,  to  take  the  light  out  of  her  little 
room  into  the  adjoining  apartment,  to  look  once  more 
at  the  sick  persons  there.  She  begged  me  not  to 
leaye  her  a  moment  in  the  dark,  for  she  could  not 
bear  it*  "  I  haye  witnessed  so  many  horrid  scenes," 
said  she,  ''inthisConyent,  that  I  want  somebody 
near  me  constantly,  and  must  always  haye  a  light 
burning  in  my  room.  I  cannot  tell  you,"  she  added, 
^  what  things  I  remember,  for  they  would  frighten 
yoisi  too  much.  What  you  haye  seen  are  nothing  to 
them.  Many  a  murder  haye  I  witnessed ;  many  a 
nice  jroung  creature  has  been  killed  in  this  Nunnery. 
I  adyise  you  to  be  yery  cautious — keep  eyerything  to 
yourself —there  are  many  here  ready  to  betray  you." 

What  it  was  that  induced  the  old  nun  to  express 
■0  much  kindness  to  me  I  could  not  telli  unless  she 
was  frightened  at  the  reooUeotion  of  her  own  crimes, 
and  those  of  others,  and  ielt  grateful  for  the  care  I 


or  juau  max. 


137 


-there  dorioff 
IhavestateS 
•n  an  old  nun, 
n  stairs,  had 
►om  adjoinint 
ttle  out  of  her 
to  be  quite  in 
ight.     It  was 
9;  but  loon, 
ugh  I  felt  re. 
^  and  exoused 
'ession,  on  the 
deranged. 

narkable  parts 
made,  in  the 
at  of  her  little 
00k  once  more 
ed  me  not  to 
she  could  not 
orrid  scenes," 
int  somebody 
bare  alight 
i,"  she  added^ 
>uld  fri([hten 
re  nothing  to 
led;  many  a 
his  Nunnery, 
everything  to 
betray  you." 
IQ  to  express 
1»  unless  she 
own  crimes, 
or  the  care  I 


look  of  her.  She  had  been  one  of  the  night  watohe% 
'and  nerer  b^ore  showed  me  any  particular  kind- 
ness.  She  did  not  indeed  go  into  detail  concerning 
the  transactions  to  which  she  alluded,  but  told  me 
that  some  nuns  had  been  murdered  under  great  ag* 
graTations  of  cruelty,  by  being  gagf?ed,  and  left  to 
starre  in  the  cells,  or  naTing  their  flesh  burned  off 
their  bones  with  led  hot  irons. 

It  was  uncommon  to  find  compunction  expressed 
by  any  of  the  nuns.  Habit  renders  us  insensible  to 
the  sufferings  of  others,  and  careless  about  our  own 
nns.  I  had  become  so  hardened  myself,  that  I  find 
it  difficult  to  rid  myself  of  many  of  my  former  false 
principles  and  yiews  of  right  and  wrong. 

I  was  one  day  set  to  wash  some  empty  bottles 
from  the  cellar,  which  had  contained  the  liquid  that 
was  poured  into  the  cemetery  there.  A  number  of 
these  had  been  brought  from  the  comer  where  .so 
many  of  Uiem  were  alwajs  to  be  seen,  and  placed  at 
theheadofthecellar  stairs,  and  there  we  were  re- 
quired to  take  them  and  wash  them  out.  We  poured 
in  watw  and  rinsed  them  ;  a  few  drops  which  ^ot 
upon  our  clothes  soon  made  holes  in  them.  I  think 
the  liquid  was  called  Titriol,  or  some  such  name, 
and  I  heard  some  persons  say  that  it  would  soon 
destroy  the  flesh  and  even  the  bones  of  the  dead. 
At  another  tinie,  we  were  furnished  with  a  little  of 
the  liquid,  which  was  mixed  with  a  quantity  of 
'Water,  and  used  in  dyin^  some  cloth'  black,  which 
was  wanted  at  funerals  m  the  chapel.  Our  hands 
were  turned  very  black  by  being  dipped  in  it,  but  a 
few  drops  of  some  other  liquid  were  mixed  with 
fresh  water,  and  given  us  to  wash  in,  which  left 
our  ridn  of  a  bright  red. 

The  bottles  of  which  I  spoke  were  made  of  ^ery 
thick  dark-coloured  glass,  large  at  the  bottom,  ana, 
I  should  say,  held  something  less  than  a  gallon. 

I  was  once  much  shocked,  on  entering  the  room 
loi  the  examination  of  conscience,  at  seeing  a  nna 


v-l 


1S8 


XWWOL  BMOmOKM 


#a| 


')! 


mil 

■>  -f  1:: 


Sr-i 


L  ..^ 


hiBoI&gby  Aootdfrom  axintiath^  o«ning,  willi 
hir  nead  aownwaxd.  Haroiothet  had  b«0B  tied 
xonnd  with  a  leathorn  strap,  to  keep  tkem  in  th«ir 
plaoe,  and  then  she  had  been  fattened  in  that  lita- 
ation.  with  her  head  some  distance  from  the  floor. 
Her  face  had  a  very  uupleasant  appearance,  being 
dark  coloured,  and  swollen  by  the  ruehinff  in  of  the 
blood;  her  hands  were  tied,  and  her  month  stopped 
with  a  large  gag.  This  nun  proved  to  be  no  other 
tlMA  Jane  May,  who  for  some  fault  had  been  con- 
demned to  this  punishment. 

This  was  not,  howerer,  a  solitarr  case ;  I  heard 
of  numbers  who  were  ^'hung/*  as  It  was  called,  at 
different  times ;  and  I  saw  St.  H^olite  and  St.  Luke 
undergoing  it.  This  was  considered  a  most  dis- 
tressing punishment ;  and  it  was  the  only  one  which 
Jane  &j  could  not  endure,  of  all  she  Iiad  tried. 

Some  of  the  nuns  would  allude  to  it  in  her  pre- 
sence, but  It  usually  made  her  angry.  It  was  pro- 
bably practised  in  the  same  place  while  I  was  a 
no^ee,  but  I  ncTcr  heard  or  thought  of  such  a  thing 
in  those  days.  Whenever  we  wished  to  enter  the 
room  for  the  examination  of  conscience,  we  had  to 
ask  leaye,  and,  after  some  d^Iay,  were  permitted  to 

go,  but  always  under  a  strict  charge  to  bend  the 
ead  forward,  and  keep  the  eyes  fixed  uponthe  floor. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Here  visits  to  the  imprisoned  nuns— Their  fears— Others 
temporailly  put  into  the  cells— Belies— The  Agnus  Dei 
—The  priests'  private  hospital,  or  Holy  Retreat— Secret 
rooms  In  the  eastern  wing— Reports  of  murders  in  the 
couTent— The  Superior's  private  reoord»— Number  of 
nuns  in  the  convent— Desire  of  escape— Urgent  reason 
fbr  it— Plan— Deliberation— Attempt^Success. 

I ORBN  seized  an  opportunity,  when  I  safely  could, 
to  speak  a  cheering  or  friendly  word  to  one  of  the 
poor  prisoners,  ispassing  their  cells,  on  my  errands 
in  the  oellank     Tot  a  time  I  supposed  them  to  be 


Oif  VAIU  XOVX. 


m 


, — ,  I  heard 
was  called,  at 
"  and  St.  Luke 
a  most  die. 

(aly  one  which 
tiad  tried. 

*  in  her  pre. 

^hile  I  was  a 
^f  auoh  a  thina 
a  to  enter  the 
<5e,  we  had  to 
» permitted  to 
to  bend  the 
ttponthe  floor. 


rfears-othen 
rae  Agnus  Dei 
cetreat— Secret 
mnrders  in  the 
*— Number  of 
CT^gent  reason 
uccess. 

Mrfely  could, 
^  one  of  the 
myenands 
them  lo  be 


i|llMri;lNititftewarda  diaooTwed  that  Ihfe  waa 

Cthaiaeeb  I  f onnd  that  Ihej  wtra  alwaya  maimg 
Isar  of  iQif erinff  tome  pnoiahment,  in  eaae  tb^ 
Aottld  be  found  tdking  with  a  person  not  oommisi* 
iieaed  to  attend  thenu  They  would  often  ask,  **  la 
not  somebody  coming  P" 

,  I  ooidd  easily  beheye  what  I  heard  ai&rmed  by 
others,  that  fear  waa  the  aevereat  of  their  aufFerinffa. 
Oonfined  in  the  dark,  in  so  gloomy  a  place,  with  uie 
long  arched  cellar  atretching  off  thia  way  and  that, 
Tisited  only  now  and  then  by  a  aolitary  nun,  with 
whom  they  were  afraid  to  apeak  their  feelinga,  and 
with  only  the  miaerable  aociety  of  each  other ;  how 
d^my  thuB  to  apend  day  after  day,  montha,  and 
eTCtt  yeara,  without  any  proapect  of  liberation,  and 
liable  at  any  moment  to  another  fate  to  which  the 
Bishop  or  Superior  might  condemn  them.  But  these 
poor  ereaturea  muat  have  known  aomething  of  the 
horrora  perpetrated  in  other  parts  of  the  buflding, 
and  could  not  hare  been  ignorant  of  the  hole  in  the 
cellar,  which  waa  not  far  nom  the  cella,  and  the  uae 
to  which  it  waa  deyoted.  One  of  them  told  me,  in 
confidence,  ahe  wiahed  they  could  get  out.  They 
must  also  haye  been  often  diaturbml  in  their  aleep, 
if  they  eyer  did  deep,  by  the  numeroua  prieata  who 
passed  through  the  trap-door  at  no  great  diataoee. 
To  be  subject  to  such  tnala  for  a  aingle  da?  would 
be  dreadful ;  but  theae  nuna  had  them  to  enaiire  lor 
years. 

I  often  felt  much  compassion  for  them,  and  wish* 
ed  to  see  them  released ;  but  at  other  times,  yieUting 
to  the  doctrine  perpetually  taught  us  in  the  Oonyent, 
that  our  future  happiness  would  be  proportioned  to 
the  sufferings  we  had  to  undergo  in  this  world,  I 
would  reat  aatiafled  that  their  impriaonment  wae  a 
real  bleaahig  to  them. 

Othera,  I  preaume,  participated  with  m«  In  inch 
f eeUnffa.  One  Sunday  afternoon,  alter  we  had  per* 
formed  all  our  oeromonicsi  and  were  engimred  as 


140 


AWFDL  X>28CL08U1SI 


i 


WRial,  at  tbtt  time,  with  baokganunon  and  otim 
amufamanti,  one  of  the  young  nnna  axolaimei 
«« Oh !  how  headstrong  are  thoie  wretches  in  \b$\ 
oellsy  they  are  as  bad  as  the  day  they  were  nnt  inP 

This  exclamation  was  made,  as  I  supposed,  in  ooa- 
sequence  of  some  recent  conversation  with  them,  y 
I  ki^ew  her  to  be  particularly  acquainted  with  the 
older  one* 

Some  of  the  vacant  cells  were  occasionally  used 
for  temporary  imprisonment.  Three  nuns  were  con* 
fined  in  ttiem,  to  my  knowledge,  for  disobedienoe 
to  the  Superior,  as  she  called  it.  They  did  not  join 
the  rest  in  singing  in  the  evening,  being  exhausted 
in  the  various  exertions  of  the  day.  llie  Superior 
ordered  them  to  sing ;  and,  as  they  did  not  comply, 
after  the  command  had  been  twice  repeated,  she  or- 
dered them  away  to  the  cells. 

They  were  immediately  tflken  down  into  the  oel* 
lar.  placed  in  separate  dungeons,  and  the  door  slmt 
ana  oarred  upon  them.  There  they  remained  through 
the  night,  the  following  day  and  second  night,  but 
were  released  in  time  to  attend  mass  on  the  second 
morning. 

The  Superior  used  occasionally  to  show  something 
in  a  glass  box,  which  we  were  required  to  regard 
with  ue  highest  degree  of  reverence.  It  was  made 
of  wax,  and  called  an  Agnus  Dei.  She  used  to  exhi- 
bit it  to  us  when  we  were  in  a  state  of  grace ;  that 
is,  after  confesssion  and  before  Sacrament.  She 
said  it  had  been  blessed  in  the  very  dish  in  which  our 
Saviour  had  eaten.  It  was  brought  from  Borne. 
Every  time  we  kissed  it,  or  even  looked  at  it,  we 
were  told  it  gave  a  hundred  days'  ifelease  from  pur- 
gatory to  ourselves,  or  if  we  did  not  need  it,  to  our 
next  of  kin  in  purgatory,  if  not  a  Protestant.  If 
we  had  no  sach  irinsman,  the  benefit  was  to  go  to  the 
•(mis  in  purgatorv  not  prayed  for. 

Jane  &av  would  sometimes  say  to  me,  *'  Let's  kisa 
It— some  of  our  friende  will  thank  us  for  it" 


o»  uxajk  uovr. 


141 


lionally  mej 
nuns  were  oon. 
>r  dieobedience 
X  did  not  join 
»nff  exhausted 
The  Superior 
aid  not  oomplv 
»peat6d,aheor. 

n  faito  the  oel. 
a  uie  door  shut 

Qained  through 
tond  night,  but 
on  the  second 

l^ow  somethioff 
ived  to  regard 
.  It  was  made 
)  used  to  ezhi. 
><  grace ;  that 
rament.  She 
^inwhichour 
from  Home, 
ed  at  it,  we 
>a8e  from  pur- 
leed  it,  to  our 
otestant.  If 
aa  to  go  to  the 

e,<<  Let's  kiM 
writ" 


' '  I  have  been  repeatedly  emplored  in  carrying  dain* 
ties  of  Cerent  Idnds  into  tne  little  ^private  room  I 
bafe  mentioned,  next  beyond  the  Saperior's  sittinff* 
loom,  in  the  second  Btoir,  which  the  priests  maae 
tiieir  **  Hol^  Retreat"  That  room  Ineyerwasal* 
lowed  to  enter.  I  could  onl]^  go  to  the  door  with  a 
Wtiter  of  rftoshmeuts,  set  it  down  upon  a  little 
ilsnd  near  it,  give  three  raps  on  the  door,  and  then 
retire  to  a  disUnoe  to  await  orders.  When  anv- 
tMng  was  to  be  taken  away,  it  was  placed  on  the 
stand  bT  the  Superior,  who  tnen  gave  three  raps  for 
me,  and  closed  the  door. 

The  Bishop  I  saw  at  least  once,  when  he  appeared 
worse  for  wine,  or  something  of  the  kind.  After 
najrtakingof  refreshments  in  the  Convent,  he  sent 
for  all  the  nuns,  and  on  our  appearance,  gave  us  bis 
blessing,  and  put  a  piece  of  pound  cake  on  the  shoul- 
der of  each  of  us,  in  a  manner  which  appeared  siu- 
5 alar  and  foolish.  There  are  three  rooms  in  the 
lack  Nunnery,  which  I  never  entered.  I  had  en- 
joyed much  libertj.  and  had  seen,  as  I  supposed,  all 
pms  of  the  building,  when  one  day  I  observed  an 
old  nun  go  to  a  comer  of  an  apartment  near  the 
northern  end  of  the  western  wing,  push  the  end  of 
her  scissors  into  a  crack  in  the  panelled  wall,  and 
pull  out  a  door.  I  was  much  surprised,  because  I 
never  had  conjectured  that  any  door  was  there; 
and  it  appeared,  when  I  afterwards  examined  the 
place,  that  no  indication  of  it  could  be  discovered 
on  the  closest  scrutiny.  I  stepped  forward  to  see 
what  was  within,  ana  saw  three  rooms  opening  into 
each  other  ;  but  the  nun  refused  to  admit  me  with- 
in  the  door,  which  she  said  led  to  rooms  kept  as  de- 
positories. 

She  herself  entered  and  closed  the  door,  so  that  I 
eould  not  satisfy  my  curiosity ;  and  no  occasion  pre^ 
aented  itself.  I  always  bad  a  strong  desire  to  know 
the  use  of  these  apartments ;  for  1  am  sure  thev 
mast  have  been  designed  for  Bome  purpose  of  which 


1 


L^   i 


142 


AWFUL  BISCLOSUBBS 


li'.^ 

i  ^' 

^H 

U'l   I' 

*%  "^ 

il> 

'|- .  ■ 

*  " 

^^y 

1  i 

■j'-  |m 

^ii 

BNS^v  .^ 

'^  n 

K  ^ '' 

mil'  :■ 

19 

^^^a^Nt   * 

Kk 

'^1 

I  was  intentionally  kept  ignorant,  otherwiee  tbey 
nBTer  wonld  have  remained  unknown  to  me  so  long. 
Besides,  the  old  nun  evidently  had  some  strong  rea- 
son for  denying  me  admiasion,  though  she  endea- 
Yonred  to  quiet  my  ouriosity. 

The  Superior,  after  my  admission  into  the  Oon- 
yent,  had  told  me  I  had  access  to  every  room  in  the 
building ;  and  I  had  seen  places  which  bore  wit« 
ness  to  the  cruelties  and  the  crimes  committed  an- 
der  her  commands  or  sanction ;  but  here  was  a  suc- 
cession of  rooms  which  had  been  concealed  from 
me,  and  so  constructed  as  if  designed  to  be  un- 
known to  all  but  a  few.  I  am  sure  that  any  per- 
son, who  might  be  able  to  examine  the  wall  in  that 
plaoe,  would  pronounce  that  secret  door  a  surpri- 
sing piece  of  work.  I  never  saw  anything  of  the 
kind  which  appeared  to  me  so  iop^enious  and  sldl- 
fully  made.  I  told  Jane  Bay  what  I  had  seen,  and 
she  said^  at  once,  '*  We  will  get  in  and  see  what  is 
there."  ^  But  I  suppose  she  never  found  an  oppor* 
tunity. 

I  naturally  felt  a  good  deal  of  curiosity  to  learn 
whether  such  scenes,  as  I  had  witnessed  in  the  death 
of  Saint  Frances,  were  common  or  rare,  and  took 
an  opportuuity  to  inquire  of  Jane  Bay,  Her  reply 
was— 

**  Oh,  yes ;  and  there  were  many  murdered  while 
yon  were  a  novice,  whom  you  heara  nothing  about." 

This  was  all  I  ever  learnt  on  this  subject ;  but 
although  I  was  told  nothing  of  the  manner  in  which 
they  were  killed,  I  suppose  it  to  be  the  same  which 
I  bad  seen  practised,  namely,  by  smothering. 

I  went  into  the  Superiors  parlour  one  day  for 
something,  and  f  onnd  Jane  Bay  there  alone,  looking 
into  a  book  with  an  appearance  of  interest.  I  asked 
her  what  it  was,  but  she  made  some  trifling  answer, 
mod  laid  it  by  as  if  unwilling  to  let  me  take  it.  There 
avs  two  bookcases  in  the  room ;  one  on  the  right  as 
you  ttiter  the  door,  and  the  other  opposite,  near  the 


OF  UASU  UONZ. 


148 


tandow  and  the  eoia.  The  lonner  oontaini  the  leo- 
ture-books  and  other  printed  YolumeSy  the  latter 
teemed  to  be  filled  with  note  and  acoount  books. 
I  have  often  seen  the  keys  in  the  bookcases  while  I 
ht?e  been  dostinff  the  furniture,  and  sometimes  ob- 
•arved  letters  studc  up  in  the  room ;  although  I  never 
looked  into  one,  or  thought  of  doing  so.  We  were 
under  slinot  orders  not  to  touch  any  of  them,  and 
the  idea  of  sins  and  penances  was  always  present  in 
my  mind. 

Some  time  after  the  occasion  mentioned,  I  was 
gent  into  the  Superior's  room  with  Jane,  to  arrange 
it ;  and  as  the  same  book  was  lying  out  of  the  case, 
die  said,  '*  Come  let  us  look  into  it."  I  immediAt^ly 
consented,  and  we  opened  it,  and  turned  over  sev- 
enl  leayes.  It  was  about  a  foot  and  a  half  long,  as 
nearly  as  I  can  remember,  a  foot  wide,  and  about 
two  inches  thick,  though  I  cannot  speak  with  parti- 
colar  precision,  as  Jane  frightened  me  almost  as  soon 
as  I  touched  it,  by  exclaiming,  "  There,  you  have 
looked  into  it,  and  if  you  tell  of  me,  I  will  of  you." 

The  thought  of  being  subjected  to  a  seTere  pen- 
ance,  which  I  had  reason  to  apprehend,  fluttered  me 
very  much  ;  and.  although  I  tried  to  coyer  my  fears, 
I  did  not  succeed  very  well.  I  reflected,  however, 
that  the  sin  was  already  committed,  and  that  it 
would  not  be  increased  if  I  examined  the  book. 

I  therefore  looked  a  little  at  several  pages,  though 
I  Btiil  felt  a  good  deal  of  agitation.  1  saw  at  once 
that  the  volume  was  a  record  of  the  entrance  of  nuns 
and  novices  into  the  Oonveot,  and  of  the  births  that 
had  taken  place  in  the  Convent.  Entries  of  the  last 
description  were  made  in  a  brief  manner,  on  the  fol- 
lowing plan:  I  do  not  give  the  names  or  dates  as 
zeal,  but  only  to  show  uae  form  of  entering  them. 

Saint  Mary,  delivered  of  a  son,  March  16^  1834. 

Saint  Glance  „  daughter,  April  2. 

Saint  MatUda        ,/         dau^ter,  April  30,  to. 

No  mention  was  made  in  the  book  of  the  death  of 


(fjimpaHl 

''!^H 

4  3v^  ^^^^^1 

'ttH 

'''  ' 

iM 

/t;^M     [  , 

u^mm  i 

'  ^^^^il 

rflMni  ''^ 

-  ^^Hi 

LflHERr'v 

I^^^B 

|tJMMMB|flEl  t 

H^^^B^ 

isi> ' 

1  fl^^K 

^'; 

*^  H^^^K 

iiBB[i '  '  \ 

'  ll^H 

Sv; 

MHTO'  '^   ^ii 

Npi),  I' 

K^^  , 

Kj] 

^hI^^s  '•' 

WW"  ' 

f ' 

SH^^^^^K' 

i 

'  IwaH 

kv 

t  jSB^^^K 

f  ^ 

1? 

'»f 

5^ 

'i:  , 

^i*     .    . 

j^> 

ft*,,    ,   ^ 

ft' 

144 


AWFUL  BXSOI^BUBaf 


the  children,  though  I  well  knew  not  one  of  tbem 
oould  he  liying  at  that  time. 

Now  I  presume  that  the  period  the  hook  emhraced 
was  ahout  two  years,  as  several  names  near  the  be- 
sinning  I  knew ;  hut  I  can  form  only  a  rough  con* 
Jecture  of  the  numher  of  infants  born,  and  murder- 
ed, of  course,  records  of  which  it  contained.  I  sup- 
pose the  book  contained  at  least  one  hundred  pages, 
and  one  fourth  were  written  upon,  and  that  each 
page  contained  fifteen  distinct  records.  Several 
pages  were  devoted  to  the  list  of  births.  On  this  sup- 

Position  there  must  have  been  a  large  number,  which 
can  easily  helieve  to  have  been  horn  there  in  the 
course  of  two  years. 

What  were  the  contents  of  the  other  hooks  be- 
lon^Bg  to  the  same  case  with  that  which  I  had  look- 
ed mto,  I  have  no  idea,  having  never  dared  to  touch 
one  of  them  ;  I  helieve,  however,  that  Jane  Bay  was 
wdl  acquainted  with  them,  knowing,  as  I  do,  her 
intelligence  and  prying  disposition.  If  she  could  be 
brought  to  give  her  testimony,  she  would  doubtless 
unfold  many  curious  particulars  now  unknown. 

I  am  able,  in  consequence  of  a  circumstance  which 
appeared  accidental,  to  state  with  confidence  the  ex- 
act number  of  persons  in  the  Convent  one  day  of  the 
week  in  which!  left  it.  This  may  be  a  point  of  some 
interest,  as  several  deaths  had  occurred  since  my 
taking  the  veil,  and  many  burials  had  been  openly 
made  in  the  chapel. 

I  was  appointed,  at  the  time  mentioned,  to  lay  out 
the  covers  for  all  the  inmates  of  the  Convent,  includ- 
iaf  the  nuns  in  the  cells.  These  covers,  as  I  have 
said  before,  were  linenbands,  to  be  bound  around  the 
knives,  forks,  spoons,  and  napkins,  for  eating.  These 
were  for  all  the  nuns  and  novices,  and  amounted  to 
two  handred  and  ten.  As  the  number  of  novices  was 
then  about  thirty,  I  know  that  there  must  have  been 
at  thattime  aboutone  hundred  and  eighty  veilednuns. 

I  was  occasionally  troubled  with  a  desire  of  escap* 


07  wuixk  XQvrx. 


14tf 


otoneof  them 


Ing  from  the  Niiimenr»  and  was  mnoh  distressed 
^neneyer  I  felt  so  eTil  an  imagination  rise  in  my 
mind.  I  belieyed  that  it  was  a  sin,  a  great  nn,  and 
i^  not  fail  to  confess,  at  every  opportunity,  that  I 
felt  discontent.  Mv  confessors  informed  me  that  I 
was  beset  with  evil  spirits,  and  urged  me  to  pray 
girainst  it.  Still,  however,  every  now  and  then,  I 
would  ti^nkj  '*  Oh.  if  I  could  get  out." 

At  length  one  of  the  priests  to  whom  I  had  con- 
fessed this  sin,  informed  me,  for  my  comfort,  that  he 
had  begun  to  prav  to  Saint  Anthony,  and  hoped  his 
intercession  would,  by-and-by,  drive  away  the  evil 
spirit.  My  desire  of  escape  was  partly  excited  by 
ue  f ear«of  bringing  an  infant  to  the  murderous  hands 
of  my  companions,  or  of  taking  a  potion  whose  vio- 
lent effects  I  too  well  knew. 

One  evening,  however,  I  found  myself  more  filled 
with  a  desire  of  escai>e  than  ever;  and  what  exer- 
tions I  made  to  dismiss  the  thought  proved  entirely 
unavailing.  During  evening  prayers,  I  became  qmte 
occupied  with  it ;  and  when  the  time  o^  meditation 
arrived,  instead  of  falling  into  a  doze,  as  I  often  did, 
though  I  was  a  good  deal  fatigued.  I  found  no  diffi- 
culty in  keeping  awake.  When  tnis  exercise  was 
oyer,  and  the  other  nuns  were  about  to  retire  to  the 
Bleeping  room,  my  station  being  in  the  private  sick- 
room for  the  night,  I  withdrew  to  my  post|  which 
was  the  little  sitting  room  adjoining  it. 

Here,  then,  I  threw  myself  upon  the  sofa,  and  be* 
ing  alone,  reflected  a  few  moments  on  the  ynfti^«^r  of 
eacapin^  which  had  occurred  to  me.  The  nhyddan 
had  amved  a  littie  before,  at  half  ^past  eight ;  and  I 
had  now  to  accompany  him  as  usual  i^m  bed  to 
bed,  witn  pen,  ink,  and  paper,  to  write  down  bis 
prescriptions  for  the  direction  of  the  old  nun,  who 
was  to  see  them  administered. 

What  I  wrote  on  that  evening,  I  cannot  nowte- 
ooUeot,  as  my  mind  was  unooiomonly  agitated ;  bat 
174  z 


.''1  %f 


ft 


W 


¥ 


w/'- 


i 


P^r 


ft- 


itfj'. 


fee 


I'^'s^ 


m 


AS9fWU$»  BIBGLOSUBSfl 


my  oastonary  way  waa  to  note  down  hAeOy  his  or- 
desf|  in  this  manner — 

1  d.  saltfly  St.  Matilde. 

1  blister,  St.  Gonevieye,  &c. 

I  remember  that  I  wrote  these  orders  that  evening, 
and  then,  having  finished  the  rounds,  I  returned  for 
a  l^w  moments  to  the  sitting-room. 

There  were  two  ways  of  access  to  the  street  from 
those  rooms;  first,  the  more  direct,  from  the  passage 
adjoining  the  sick-room  down  stairs,  through  a  door, 
into  the  Nunnery-yard,  and  through  a  wi<£er  gatej 
that  is  the  way  by  which  the  physician  usually  en- 
ters at  night,  and  he  is  provided  with  a  key  for  that 
purpose. 

It  would  have  been  unsafe,  however,  forme  to 
pass  out  that  way,  because  a  man  is  kept  continually 
in  the  yard,  near  the  gate,  who  sleeps  at  night  in  a 
small  hut  near  the  door,  to  escape  wnose  observation 
would  be  impossible.  My  only  nope,  therefore,  was, 
that  I  might  gain  my  passage  through  the  other  way, 
to  do  which  I  must  pass  through  the  sick-room,  then 
through  a  passage,  or  small  room  usually  occupied 
by  an  old  nun ;  another  passage  and  staircase  lead' 
ing  down  to  the  yard,  and  a  large  gate  opening  into 
the  cross  street.  I  had  no  liberty  to  go  oeyond  the 
■idk-room,  and  knew  that  several  <d  the  doors  might 
be  fastened;  still  I  determined  to  try;  although  I 
hAVe  often  since  been  astonished  at  my  boldness  in 
undertakinff  what  would  expose  me  to  so  many  ha« 
ssjrds  of  failure^,  and  to  severe  punishment  if  found 
out* 

It  seemed  as  if  I  acted  under  some  extraordinary 
impulse,  which  encouraged  me  to  what  I  should 
hardly  at  anv  other  moment  have  thought  of  under* 
taking.  I  had  sat  but  a  short  time  upon  the  sofa, 
however,  before  I  rose  with  a  desperate  determina- 
tion to  make  the  experiment.  I  therefore  walked 
hastily  across  the  sick  room,  passed  into  the  nun's 
tooiDy  walkedby  heri&a  great  hurry,  and  almoit 


OF  tf  ABU  UOS1L 


147 


without  ffivins  her  Umo  to  speak  or  think,  said,  '*  A 
niesBafire!"  and  in  an  instant  was  through  the  door, 
and  in  the  next  passage.  I  think  there  was  another 
nun  with  her  at  the  moment ;  and  it  is  prhable  that 
my  harried  manner,  and  prompt  intimation  that  I 
was  sent  on  a  pressing  mission  to  the  Superior,  prer 
Tented  them  from  entertaining  any  suspicion  of  my 
iutention.  Besides,  I  had  the  written  orders  of  the 
physician  in  my  hand,  which  may  have  tended  to 
mislead  them ;  and  it  was  well  known  to  some  of  tho 
nuns,  that  I  had  twice  left  the  Convent,  and  return- 
ed from  choice,  so  that  I  was  probably  more  likely 
to  be  trusted  to  remain  than  many  of  the  others. 

The  passage  which  I  now  reached  had  several 
doors,  with  all  which  I  was  acquainted ;  that  on  the' 
opposite  side  opened  into  a  community-room,  where 
I  should  have  probably  found  some  of  the  old  nuns 
at  that  hour,  and  they  would  certainly  have  stopped 
me.  On  the  left,  however,  was  a  large  door,  both 
looked  and  barred :  but  I  gave  the  door  a  sudden 
swing,  that  it  might  creak  as  little  as  possible,  being 
of  iron.  Down  the  stairs  I  hurried,  and  makinir  my 
way  through  the  door  into  the  yard,  stepped  across 
it,  unbarred  the  great  gate,  and  was  at  liberty ! 


V>  1- 


CONCLUSION. 

Trb  following  circumstances  comprise  all  that  Is 
deemed  necessary  now  to  subjoin  to  the  preceding 
narrative. 

After  my  arrival  in  New  York,  I  was  introduced 
to  the  alms-house,  where  I  was  attended  with  kind- 
ness and  care,  and,  as  I  hoped,  was  entirely  uri- 
known.  But  when  I  had  been  some  time  in  that  in- 
sttlution,  I  found  that  it  was  reported  that  I  was  a 
fugitive  nun ;  and  not  long  after,  an  Irish  woman, 
b^onging  to  the  house,  brought  me  a  secret  message, 
which  caused  me  fome  agitation.  ^^ 

*  was  ilttlaf  In  the  room  ol  Mrs.  Johnson,  the  mat. 


i  r 


K 


148 


kWFUt  DZSCSiOfiTTBSS 


N. 


is 

I 


ron,  engaffed  in  lewin^r,  wh«D  that  Irish  woman, 
employed  m  the  inBtitution»  oame  in  and  told  me  that 
Mr.  Oonroy  was  below,  and  had  sent  to  see  me.  I 
was  informed  that  he  was  a  Boman  priest,  who  often 
tisited  the  house,  and  he  had  a  particular  wish  to 
see  me  at  that  time ;  haying  come,  as  I  beliere,  ex. 
pxessi J  for  that  purpose.  I  showed  unwillingness  to 
comply  with  such  an  invitation,  and  did  not  go. 

The  woman  told  me,  further,  that  he  sent  me  word 
that  I  need  not  think  to  avoid  him,  for  it  would  be 
impossible  for  me  to  do  so,  I  might  conceal  myself  as 
well  as  I  could,  but  I  should  be  found  and  taken. 
Ko  matter  where  I  went,  or  what  hiding-place  I 
might  choose,  I  should  be  known ;  and  I  had  better 
come  at  once.  He  knew  who  I  was ;  and  he  was  au- 
thoriaed  to  take  me  to  the  Sisters  of  Charity,  if  I 
should  prefer  to  join  them.  He  would  promise  that 
I  might  stay  with  them  if  I  chose,  and  oe  permitted 
to  remain  in  New  York.  He  sent  me  word  further 
that  he  had  received  full  power  and  authority  over 
me  from  the  Superior  of  the  Hotel  Dieu  Nunnery  at 
Montreal,  and  was  able  to  do  all  that  she  could  do ; 
as  her  rieht  to  dispose  of  me  at  her  will  had  been 
imparted  to  him  by  a  regular  writing  received  from 
Canada.  This  was  alarming  information  for  me,  in 
the  weakness  in  which  I  was  at  that  time.  The  wo- 
man added,  that  the  same  authority  had  been  given 
to  all  the  priests ;  so  that  go  where  I  might  I  should 
meet  men  informed  about  me  and  my  escape,  and 
fully  empowered  to  seize  me  whenever  they  could, 
and  convey  me  back  to  the  Convent  from  which  I 
had  escaped. 

Under  these  circumstances,  it  seemed  to  me  that 
the  offer  to  place  me  among  the  Sisters  of  Charity, 
with  permission  to  remain  in  New  York,  was  mild 
and  favourable.  However,  I  had  resolution  enough 
to  refuse  to  see  priest  Conroy. 

Not  long  afterwards  I  was  informed,  by  the  same 
Biessenger  that  the  priest  was  again  in  the  buildingi 


\ 


Of  ICABIi.  XOIIX. 


140 


aod  repeated  his  reqiuest.  I  deaured  one  of  tbe  goh* 
tlemen  oonneoted  with  the  iustitutioo.  that  a  stop 
might  he  put  to  suoh  messages,  a^  I  wished  to  reoeiye 
no  more  of  them.  A  short  time  after,  however,  tte 
woman  told  me  that  Mr.  Conroy  wished  to  inqnire. 
of  me,  whether  my  name  was  not  St.  Eustace  while 
a  nun,  and.if  I  had  not  confessed  to  Priest  Kelly  in 
Montreal.  I  answered,  that  it  was  all  true;  fori 
hdd  confessed  to  him  a  short  time  while  in  the  Nun- 
nery. I  was  then  told  again  that  the  priest  wanted 
to  see  me,  and  I  sent  hack  word  that  I  would  see 

him  in  the  presence  of  Mr.  T or  Mr.  S — r- ; 

which,  however,  was  not  agreed  to ;  and  I  was  after- 
wards iuf  ormed^  that  Mr.  Conroy,  the  Eoman  priest, 
spent  an  honr  m  the  room  and  a  passage  where  I 
hadfrequently  heen ;  but,  through  the  mercy  of  Ctod, 
I  was  emplojed  at  another  place  at  that  tmie,  and 
had  no  occasion  to  go  where  I  should  have  met  him. 
I  afterwards  repeatedly  heard,  that  Mr.  Conroy  con- 
tinued to  visit  the  house,  and  to  ask  for  me ;  but  I 
never  saw  him.  I  once  had  determined  to  leave  tiie 
institution,  and  go  to  the  Sisters  of  Charity;  but 
droumstences  occurred  which  gave  me  time  for  fur- 
ther raflection ;  and  I  was  saved  from  the  dertrac- 
tioli  to  which  I  should  have  been  exposed. 

As  the  period  of  my  accouchement  ap^roadied,  I 
sometimes  thought  that  I  should  not  survive  it :  and 
then  the  recollection  of  the  dreadful  ^*^lmes  I  had 
witnessed  in  the  Nunnery  would  come  upon  me  very 
powerfully,  and  I  would  think  it  a  solemn  duty  to 
disclose  them  before  I  died.  To  have  a  knowledffe  of 
thbse  things,  and  leave  the  worid  without  nsiking 
them  known,  appeared  to  me  like  a  great  sin,  when- 
ever I  could  cuvest  myself  of  the  impression  made 
upon  me  by  the  declarations  and  argumente  of  the 
Superior,  nuns,  and  prieste,  of  the  duty  of  submit- 
ting to  everything,  and  the  necessary  holiness  ef 
whatever  they  did  or  required. 

The  evening  but  one  before  the  period  whieh  laQp 


Hi 


150 


AWFUL  BUOIiOSUBBS 


W'' 

W 

'  ^-  ^^^^Bfl^ 

^^^^B 

i;teV 

'r^^^^l 

|v^ 

'"''I^H 

"''■  ^^^^^^^^n 

m 

i: 

ir:- 


ft 


ticipated  with  lo  mudh  anxiety,  I  wm  dildnf  alone, 
mod  began  to  indul^fe  in  reflectiona  of  thia  kind.  It 
•eemM  to  me  that  I  muat  be  near  the  doee  of  my 
l^e,  and  I  determined  to  make  a  disclosure  at  onoe« 
lapoke  to  Mrs.  Ford,  a  woman  whose  character  I 
respected,  a  nurse  in  the  hospital,  number  twenty- 
three.  I  informed  her  that  I  had  no  expectation  of 
UfinfiT  long^,  and  had  some  things  on  my  mind  which 
I  wished  to  communicate  before  it  should  be  too  late. 
I  added,  that  I  should  prefer  telling  them  to  Mr. 
X— -<>,  the  chaplain !  of  which  she  approTcd,  as  she 
considered  it  a  duty  to  do  so,  under  those  circum- 
stances. I  had  no  opportunity,  however,  to  con. 
^erse  with  Mr.  T.  at  that  time,  and,  probably,  mj 

aose  of  disclosing  the  facts  already  given  in  this 
,  would  never  have  been  exeoutedi  but  for  what 
subsequently  took  place. 

It  was  alarm  which  led  me  to  form  such  a  deter- 
mination ;  and  when  the  period  of  trial  had  been 
saiely  passed,  and  I  had  a  prospect  of  recovery,  any- 
thing appeared  to  me  more  unlikely  than  that  I 
should  make  this  exposure. 

I  was  then  a  Boman  Catholic,  at  least  a  great  pnrt 
nf  my  time;  and  my  conduct,  in  a  great  measure, 
was  according  to  the  faith  and  motives  of  a  Boman 
Catiiolic.  Notwithstanding^  what  I  knew  of  the  con* 
duet  of  so  many  of  the  priests  and  nuns,  I  thought 
that  it  had  no  effect  on  the  sanctity  of  the  church, 
or  tiie  authority  or  effects  of  the  acts  performed  bv 
the  former  at  the  mass,  confession,  &c.  I  had  sacm 
a  regard  for  my  vows  as  a  nun,  thati  considered  my 
band  as  well  as  my  heart  irrevocably  given  to  Jesus 
Ohrist,  and  could  never  have  allowed  any  person  to 
takeiii  Indeed,  to  this  dav,  I  feel  an  instinctive 
a;verBion  to  offering  my  hand,  or  taking  the  hand  of 
another  person,  even  as  an  expression  of  friendship. 

I  also  thought  that  I  might  soon  return  to  the 
OatholicB,  although  fear  and  disgust  held  me  back. 
I  bad  now  that  infant  to  think  for,  whoae  life  I  hnd 


OV  UABXA  KOHK. 


151 


•neb  a  deter, 
nal  had  been 
Jcovery,  anjr- 
ttian  that  I 

'ft  great  port 
*t  measure^ 
of  a  Boman 
^  of  the  con. 
Vl  thought 
•he  church, 
u^onnedW 
^  had  SQoh 
taidered  my 
^Q  to  JesQs 
^  person  to 
uistiiictive 
he  hand  of 
^'endship. 
an  to  the 
ma  Uek. 


happOy  Mived  hj  my  timely  etoape  fiom  tba  Nim- 
neiy ;  what  its  late  might  be,  in  ease  it  should  tret 
fall  into  the  power  of  the  priests,  I  oould  not  tell. 

I  had,  however,  reason  for  alarm*  Would  a  ohUd, 
destined  to  destruction,  like  the  infants  I  had  sean 
baptized  and  smothered,  be  allowed  to  go  thrQUffh 
the  world  unmolested,  a  living  memorial  of  th^  truth 
of  crimes  long  practised  in  security,  because  neverez* 

rsed  P  What  pledges  could  I  get  to  satisfy  me,  that 
on  whom  her  dependence  must  be,  would  be  spafw 
ed  by  those  who,  I  had  reason  to  think,  were  wish^ 
inff  then  to  sacrifice  ineP  How  oould  I  trust  the 
helpless  infant  in  hands  which  had  hastened  the 
baptism  of  many  such,  in  order  to  hurry  them  into 
the  secret  pit  in  the  cellar?  Gould  I  suppose  that 
Father  Pfielan,  Priest  of  the  Pariah  Church  oJMaiu 
trealf  would  see  hie  own  child  growing  up  in  the 
world,  and  feel  willing  to  run  the  risk  of  havinif  the 
truth  exposed  P  WhiS  could  I  expect,  especisJly 
from  him,  but  the  utmost  rancour,  and  the  most  de- 
termined enmity,  against  the  innocent  child  and  its 
abused  and  defenceless  mother? 

Yet,  my  mind  would  sometimes  still  incline  to  the 
opposite  direction,  and  indulge  the  thought,  that 
perhaps  the  only  way  to  secure  heaven  to  us  bothi 
was  to  throw  ourselves  back  into  the  hands  of  tiie 
church,  to  be  treated  as  she  pleased* — When,  there- 
fore, the  fear  of  immediate  death  was  removed^  I 
renounced  all  thoughts  of  communicating  thB  sub* 
stance  of  the  facts  of  this  volume*  It  happenedt 
however,  that  my  danger  was  not  passed.  I  was  soon 
seized  with  very  alarming  symptoms ;  then  my  deska 
to  disclose  my  stoiy  revived* 

I  had  before  hadan  opportunity  to  q>eak  in  pii* 
vate  with  the  chaplain ;  out,  as  it  was  at  a  time  wnsm 
I  supposed  myself  out  of  danger,  I  had  del ened  for 
three  days  my  proposed  communication,  thii^dng 
that  I  might  yet  avoid  it  altogether*  whan  mf 
symptoms,  however,  became  mora  alanning,  I  wai 


\t 


152 


Aiavt,  msouNivsxs 


f' ■      *        i^    w    ■ 


;j 


*.  '.  ^■'^ 


If?-  ' 


*     «4 


51 

I'  > 
4 


•  h 
f 
11  1 


anadoni  far  Satetdagr  to  trri?e,  the  day  whioh  I  Imd 
appointed ;  and  when  I  had  not  the  opportunity,  on 
that  dav.  which  I  desired.  I  thought  u  might  be  too 
li^.  ^  raid  not  eee  him  till  Monday,  when  my  pros- 
peots  of  surriying  were  Ttey  gloomy,  and  I  then  in- 
formed him  that  I  v/iahed  to  communicate  to  him  a 
few  secrete,  which  were  likely  other^r^ise  to  die  with 
me.  I  then  told  him,  that  while  a  nuu.  in  the  Oon- 
tei^tof  Montreal,  I  had  witnessed  the' murder  of  a 
nun,  called  Saint  jPrances,  and  of  at  least  one  of  the 
infants  which  I  have  spoken  of  in  this  book.  I  add- 
ed some  few  circumstances,  and  I  believe  disclosed, 
in  general  terms,  some  of  the  crimes  I  knew  of  m 
^atNminery. 

My  antidpationB  of  death  proved  to  be  unfound- 
ed :  for  my  health  afterwards  improved,  and  had  I 
ndt  made  the  confessions  on  that  occasion^  it  is  very 
possible  I  might  never  have  made  them .  I,  however, 
afterwards^  felt  more  willing  to  listen  to  instruction, 
mad  ezpenenced  friendly  attentions  from  some  of 
the  benevolent  persons  arpund  me,  who,  taking  an 
intesreet  in  me  on  account  of  my  darkened  under- 
stamding,  furnished  me  with  the  Bible,  and  were 
ever  rcMy  to  counsel  me  when  I  desired  it. 

I  soon  began  to  believe  t^t  Gk>d  might  have  in* 
tended  that  his  creatures  should  learn  his  will  by 
reacUng  his  word,  and  taking  upon  them  the  free 
exercise  of  their  reason,  and  aclimg  under  responsi* 
biUiytohim. 

It  is  difficult  for  one  who  has  never  given  way  to 
saoh  arffuments  and  influences  as  those  t^  which  I 
had  been  exposed,  to  realise  how  hard  it  is  to  think 
arigm,  after  thinkmg  wrong.  The  Scripturer;  always 
sifeot  me  powerfully  when  I  read  them ;  but  X  feel 
ll^t  I  have  but  just  begun  to  learn  the  great  truths,, 
if^Whi^  I  ouffht  to  have  been  early  and  thoroughly 
inafanieted.  I  reaUae,  in  some  degree,  howit  is.  that 
Dte  8Q4?taies  fender  the  people  of  the  Uniled  States 
4»9i#sigly  opposed  to  sneh  doctrines  as  are  taught 


OV  lOBIAXOMX. 


168 


ill  the  BlAok  and  Oongref  ational  NunnMiM  of  Hon- 
^l«al.  The  oriattt  and  nuns  used  often  to  declare 
iiiat  of  all  neretios,  the  ohildren  from  the  United 
States  were  the  mottt  difBioolt  to  be  converted;  and 
jt  was  thought'  a  great  triumph  when  one  of  them 
wafii  Ibronght  OTcr  to  **  the  true  faith."  The  first  pat* 
lige  of  Soriptore  that  made  any  serious  impression 
upon  mv  mmd,  was  the  text  on  which  the  chaplain 
preaohed  on  the  Sabbath  after  my  introduction  to 
the  house,-^'*  Search  the  Scriptures." 


»     , 


"1 


% 


\(:  ^^.; 


I  It  ' ' 
If' 


Ir 


)^  % 


■"<«■■*.; 


■  ir 


lf4 


AMWOL  UMUMOBM 


EXTBAGTS  FBOM  PUBXIG  JOUBNALS, 

BXLiTZKO  TO 

TSCS  TRUTH   OB* 

MABIA  MONK'S  DISCLOSimES. 


. "» 


The/cUatoing  eertifleaU  appeared  in  the  Protestant 
Vindicator,  in  Marchf  1836. 

Wb,  theBubHoriberSy  have  an  acquaintance  with  Mitt 
Maria  Monk,  and  having  considered  the  evidence  of 
different  kinds  which  has  been  collected  in  relation 
to  her  case,  have  no  hesitation  in  declaring  oar  be* 
lief  in  the  truth  of  the  statements  she  makes  in  her 
book,  recently  published  in  New  York,  entitled  *  Aw- 
ful Disclosures,'  &o, 

**  We  at  the  same  time  declare  that  the  assertion, 
oriirinally  made  in  the  Boman  Catholic  Newspapein 
of  Boston,  that  the  book  was  copied  from  a  work  en- 
titled *  The  Gates  of  Hell  Opened,'  is  wholly  desti- 
tute of  foundation;  it  being  eotirely  new,  and  not 
oopied  from  anything  whatsoever. 

**  And  we  further  declare,,  that  no  evidence  has 
been  produced  which  discredits  the  statements  of 
lOss  Monk  ;  while,  on  the  contrary,  her  story  has  yet 
received,  and  continues  to  receive,  confirmation  from 
vttious  sources. 

**  During  the  last  week,  two  important  witnesseB 
Jpontaneously  appeared,  and  offerad  to  givepublie 
testimony  in  ner  favour.    From  them  the  foUowiof 


or  kABU  xovt.  166 

daUoeatioDs  liaT«  been  iiioeiTad.  The  flnt  it  an  ifi- 
datit  giTon  by  Mr,  Wililiam  Miller,  now  a  mident 
ofthisoitj.  Tha  aeoond  ia  a  atatement  reoeiTod 
^m  a  701111K  married  woman,  who,  with  her  haa« 
baud,  aUo  reiidea  here.  In  the  clear  and  repeated 
^tatemeota  made  bv  these  two  witneeses.  we  place 
entire  reliance ;  who  are  ready  to  famish  satisfac- 
tion to  any  persons  making  reasonable  enquiries  on 
the  subject* 

*•  w.  0.  Bbowkbbb,  **  Auos  Beldsn, 

"  John  J.  Slooum,  **  David  Wsssoir, 

**  Andbsw  Bbuob,  **  Thosxas  Hooan." 

"D.  Fansbaw, 

From  the  A  rnencan  ProiestmU  Vindicator. 

<*It  was  expected  that,  after  Maria  Monk's  disclo- 
sores,  an  artful  attempt  would  be  mad^  to  invalidate 
her  testimonv— which  was  done  secretly  after  her 
escape  ^m  the  Hotel  Dieu  Nunnery,  bv  so  altering 
the  appearance  of  that  institution  by  planking,  and 
brickmg,  and  stouing,  as  to  deceive  Col.  Stone,  who 
was  ihm  requested  to  examine  it  for  himself  and  the 
World.     The  Ool.  misrepresented  what  he  saw,  he 
was  deceived  regardin^i^  those  alterations  by  the  in- 
mates, who  dragged  him,  as  it  were,  by  force  through 
the  bnildiuff  during  his  examination,  which  was  per- 
formed in  the  amazing  abort  space  of  a  few  honra. 
Bat  tiine  is  the  srand  unraveller  of  mysteries.    On 
the  appearance  ox  the  book  of  Miss  Monk,  the  hood* 
winked  neople  of  Montreal  were  so  surprised  and 
Itnpefted  at  finding  that  the  immaculate  purity  of 
the  Hotel  Dieu  had  been  ao  disparaged,  that  they 
fnirgot  to  think  seriously  on  the  subject^but,  under- 
litanding  that  the  atory  had  gained  almoat  general 
belief  abroad,  they,  at  laat,  were  led  to  con  lecture 
,  that  perhaps  it  waa  partialitv  that  prevented  them 
from  believing  it  at  nome.  General  attention,  there- 
fore, in  Montreal,  waa  directed  towards  that  edifice 


1..* 


•  % 


156 


▲WFUL  DISOtLOSmUIB 


S-f'! 


Lit  , 


It; 


1: 
1 


)  I 

— tnd  fhoae  retdding  in  its  immediate  vioinity  oast  a 
letrospectiTe  glance  oTer  what  thev  had  aeen  traniJ 
acted  there,  between  the  time  at  which  the '  Disolo* 
8ures*  were  published,  and  the  Tint  of  Col.  Stone. 
The  result  of  this  investigation  has  been  lately  men 
on  the  spot  to  the  Bev.  Jas.  P.  Miller,  of  New  xoriL 
who  visited  that  city  for  the  purpose  of  hearing  thai 
the  truth  was  gradually  coming  to  light.  The  neigh* 
bouri  informed  Mr.  Miller  that  about  the  time  it  wal 
rumoured  that  she  had  exposed  the  institution,  a 
mysterious  pile  of  planks,  twenty-five  feet  in  height, 
had  been  placed  mysteriouslv  in  the  yard,  wmoh 
were  wonderfully  and  gradually  used  in  progressing 
some  improvements  in  the  building^for  they  wen 
neither  employed  outside  nor  hatilea  aw^y. 

Whatever  may  be  the  fact  with  regard  to  Maria 
Monk's  alleged  disclosures,  those  of  our  people  who 
have  read  your  papers,  are  satisfied  in  one  point: 
ttAt  Mr.  Stone's  credibility  as  a  witness  has  been 
successfully  impeached ;  that  his  examination  of  the 
Nunnery,  was  a  mere  sham ;  that  he  was  either  the 
dupe  of  Jesuitical  imposture,  or  that  he  himself  is  a 
fond  impostor ;  that  he  has  been  unwilHugly  or  is • 
norantly  befooled ;  and  unless  he  has  had  a  tangible 
reward,  that  he  has  '  got  his  labour  for  his  pains.' 

**My  wife,  who  spent  her  childhood  in  Montreal, 
says,  that  she  and  her  schoolmates,  when  walking 
the  street  nea^  the  Nunnery,  often  used,  to  wonder 
if  the  famous  subterranean  passage  was  under  the 
^place  where  they  then  stood :  ana  yet,  forsooth,  no 
'person  in  Canada  ever  before  heard  of  it !  What* 
ever  may  be  the  facts  in  relation  to  those  disdo- 
snres,  we  needed  not  your  paper  to  satisfy  us  either 
that  Jesuits  must  be  as  holy  as  the '  Blessed  Virgin 
Mother'  herself,  or  those  conventicles  of  unprotect- 
ed females  are  pcenes  of  the  most  damning  character. 

—A  F&OTBSXAXT.'* 


\. 


ov  1CABU  xomt. 


167 


FT<m  ihe  I/mg  Island  Star^  0//V6. 29th. 

<*  Smoe  the  publication  of  oar  last  paper,  we  have 
leeeived  a  oommunieation  from  Messrs.  Howe  and 
Bates,  of  Kew  York,  the  publishers  of  Miss  Monk's 
*  Awful  Disclosures.'  It  appears  that  some  influ* 
eooe  has  been  at  work  in  that  city,  adverse  to  the 
free  examination  of  the  case  between  her  and  the 
^ests  of  Canada ;  for  thus  far  the  newspapers  have 
lieen  most  entirely  closed  against  everything  in  her 
defence,  whilst  most  of  them  have  published  false 
charges  against  the  book,  some  of  a  i>repostearpu8 
oatnre,  the  contradiction  of  which  is  plain  and  pid- 
pahle. 

**  Returning  to  New  York,  she  then  first  resolved 
tDpubUiAi  her  story,  which  she  has  recently  done, 
alter  several  intelligent  disinterested  ^rsons  had 
satisfied  themselves  by  much  examination  that  it 
ii  true* 

^  When  it  became  known  in  Oanada  that  this  was 
liflr  intention^  six  affidavits  were  published  in  some 
(tfthe^  newspapers,  intended  to  destroy  confidence 
in  her  chanuster ;  but  these  were  found  very  contra- 
dictory in  several  important  points,  and  in  others  to 
afford  undesigned  confirmation  of  statements  before 
made  liy  her.  ■  ^ 

'^  On  the  imblication  of  her  book,  the  New  York 
Catholic  Dairy,  the  Truth-teller,  the  Green  Banner, 
and  other  papers,  made  virulent  attacks  upon  iL 
end  one  of  them  prq[K>8ed  that  the  publishers  should 
beUvnehed.'  An  anonymous  handbill  was  also 
oacolated  in  New  York,  declariuff  the  work  a  ma- 
lignant libel,  got  up  by  Ptotestant  clergymen,  and^ 
^promising  an  ampU  refutation  of  it  in  a  few  days. 
This  were  re-pabuahed  in  the  Catholic  Dairy,  te.» 
with  the  old  Montreal  affidavits,  which  latter  Were 
distributed  through  New  York  and  Brooklyn ;  and. 


'/a 


158 


MMtVt*  DIBdLO^tnttS 


■.'  -''IB 

''1^1 

i;; 


t  ) 


on  the  aiithotit^  of  these,  BOT'eral  Protestant  news  J 
papersdenonnoed  the  work  as  false  and  malioioiu. 

**  Anbtiier  oharge,  quite  inconsistent  with  the  reit, 
was  also  made,  not  only  by  the  leading  Boman  C^ 
tholio  papers,  bat  by  several  others  at  seoond  hand 
— ^^z.,  that  it  was  a  mere  copjr  of  an  old  Europeau 
work.  This  had  been  promptly  denied  by  the  pub- 
libibers,  with  the  offer  of  100  dollars  rewaS^  for  any 
book  at  all  resembliDg  it. 

**  Yet  such  is  the  resolution  of  some,  and  the  nn« 
belief  of  others,  that  it  is  impossible  for  the  pub- 
lishers to  obtain  insertion  for  the  replies  in  the  New 
York  papers  generally,  and  thev  have  been  nnsuc- 
oessfnl  in  an  attempt  at  Philadelphia. 

**  This  is  the  ground  on  which  the  f oUowini;  ar* 
tide  has  been  offered  to  us,  for  publication  in  the 
Star.  It  was  offered  to  Mr.  Schneller,  a  Boman 
Priest,  and  Editor  of  the  Catholic  Dairy,  for  inser- 
tion in  his  paper  of  Saturday  before  last,  but  re- 
fused, although  written  expressly  as  an  answer  to 
the  affidayits  a^ d  charges  his  preyious  number  had 
eontained.  This  article  has  also  been  refused  inser- 
tion in  a  Philadelphia  daily  paper,  after  it  been  sa- 
tisfactorily ascertained  that  there  was  no  hope  of 
gaining  admisuon  for  it  into  any  of  the  New  York 
papers. 

r  It  should  be  stated,  in  addition,  that  the  author- 
ess of  the  book,  Maria  Monk,  is  in  New  York,  and 
stands  ready  to  answer  any  questions,  ^d  sub- 
mit to  any  enquiries  put  in  a  proper  manner,  and 
desires  nothing  so  strongly  as  an  opportunity  to 
move  before  a  court  the  truth  of  her  story.  She 
lias  already  found  seyeral  persons  of  respectability 
who  haye  confirmed  some  of  the  facts,  important 
and  likely  to  be  attested  by  concurrant  eyidenoe; 
and  much  further  testimony  in  her  f ayour  may  be 
'  sooii  expected  by  the  public.  ^ 

**  With  these  facts  bdore  them,  intelligent  readers 
will  Judge  for  fbemselysa.    She  asks  lor  lutfrtiga* 


.*iV'3 


07  UAXtk  xomi 


159 


tioni  wliilo  her  opponents  deny  her  every  ^  0|^^orta- 
nity  to  meet  the  cnarges  maae  against  he^.  Mr. 
S^neller,  alter  expressing  a  wish  to  see  her,  to  the 
publishers,  refused  to  meet  her  any wh««y  unless  in 
his  own  house ;  while  Mr.  Quarter,  another  Bbman 
Oaiholic  pri^,  called  to  see  her,  at  ten  o'clock  one 
night,  accompanied  by  another  man,  without,  gfnag 
their  namesi  and  under  the  false  pretence  of  being 
^isajrerf  of  a  letter  from  her  brother  in  Montreal.    - 


k 

** 


>i 


V 


i 


V     r 


proLnxBD  yoB  thb  BoouixxiBa* 


\n^. 


'^\ 


